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STORIES ABOUT 

FAMOUS MEN m WOMEN 

OF OUR GREAT COUNTRY 

CONTAINING 

THE LIVES OF ALMOST FIFTY OF OUR NATION'S 
HEROES AND HEROINES 

WASHINGTON, 



FULTON, 


EDISON, 


FF 


JANCES WILLAP 


D, 


JACKSON, 


GIRARD, 


LEE, 




MEADE, 




ROOSEVELT, 


MOLLY PITCHER. 


PERRY, 




FARRAGUT, 




HOBSON, 


PUTNAM, 


lACK DAVIS, 




HENRY, 




GREENE, 


GRANT, 


PENN, 




LINCOLN, 




LONGFELLOW 


LAWTON, 


CLAY, 




DEWEY, 




BETSY ROSS. 


FRANKLIN 


GOODYEAR, 


DECATUR 


BOONE, 




AND 


OTHERS 







A Book of Entertainment and Instruction for the Young 

HELPING THEM TO FORM HIGHER IDEAS AND SHOWING 

THEM THAT BY INDUSTRY AND PERSEVERANCE THEY 

MAY OVERCOME GREAT OBSTACLES AND RISE 

TO SUCCESS AND FAME. 

By MILTON HA'D„l.EV i^:,;./. ;•:-.• 

THE WELL-KNOWN WRITER FOR YOUNG PE'OPLjK" •••"*••• • 



Beautifully Embellished with Magnificent Lithographs in 
Colors and Superb Phototype and Wood Engravings 



NATIONAL PUBLISHING CO. 

235 TO 243 South American St. 
PHILADELPHIA, PA. 



THE LIBRARY OF 


CONtiRESS. 


Two Copies 


Recoivec 


OCT 9 


1903 


Copyiigiu 


tnviy 


class" o- 


XXc. No 


fc7^ 


1 ° 


COPY 


a. 



ENTERED ACCORDING TO ACT O"" roNORESa, IN THE YEAR 1903, BV 

D. Z. HOWELL 

IN THE OFFICE OF THE LIBRARIAN OF CONGRESS, AT WASHINGTON, D. C. U. 6. A 



4 




PEEFACE 





kBN and women who have become famous on account of theit 
ntjble virtues and grand achievements are bright examples to 
the young. The patriotism of Washington, Franklin and 
other heroes of the Revolution will never cease to inspire Americans. 
They stand out in history as patterns worthy the imitation of all genera- 
tions of their countrymen. 

It is the high aim of this volume to portray the noble traits and the 
noble deeds of the men and women of our country whose names have 
become household words. It is not merely a grand work for boys and 
girls, but for all cla5ses of readers. The great Generals, Orators, States- 
men, Explorers, Inventors and Pioneers of our country are depicted in a 
masterly manner. The reader is delighted with the glowing tales of 
patriotism and the superb valor and daring exploits of heroes like 
Washington, Putnam, Lee, Grant, " Stonewall " Jackson, Dewey, Roose- 
velt, Lawton and many others. 

Here, too, are thrilKing accounts of Polar Voyages, Explorations be- 
yond the Mississippi ; brave deeds of our Army and Navy ; brilliant 
examples of poor boys and girls who have risen to fame, showing how 
the young, by labor and perseverance, can achieve success. There are 
examples of men who have amassed fortunes, like Girard by his ships 
and real estate investments ^ Elias Howe by his invention of the sewing 
machine ; Edison by his discvjveries in electricity ; James Gordon Bennett 
hy founding a great newspaper. 

The men and women who \iave achieved distinction in all the various 
walks of life are here made illustrious, their names being written on the 
immortal scroll of history. 

Not the least thrilling of tlie great deeds of Americans are the ex- 
plorations made in the Polar Region by Dr. Kane, Lieutenant Lockwood^ 
Lieutenant Peary and others who have braved the snows and frosts of 
northern winters in a fruitless search for the Pole. The hardships and 



Tiu PREFACE. 

sufferings of tliese and of tlie eari}' pioneers who pushed on into the 
wilderness making way for the new Nation, all have a thrilling fascina- 
tion for the young. Valuable instruction is also conveyed by this narra- 
tive and much of interest is to be learned. 

A work abounding in incidents showing what can be accomplished 
by that spirit of enterprise which characterizes the American people. At 
the same time much is here written that will stir the patriotism of all 
who read this volume. Descriptions are given of the old Independence 
Hall, Carpenter's Hall, the home of "' Old Glory,'" the great speeches and 
thrilling scenes in which such oratory as Patrick Henry, Webster, Clay, 
Lincoln and many others were participants. These all have their capti- 
vating power and are not without their effect when placed before the 
youth of the present day. 





PAGET 

George Washington, the Father of His Country . 17 

Robert Fulton and His Steamboat 30' 

Stephen Girard and His College for Poor Boys 35 

Molly Pitcher and Her Brave Deed ... 45 

General Israel Putnam and His Famous Exploits 48- 

How Sammy Helped General Putnam 53 

General Grant, the Hero of the Civil War , . . . . 58 

General Lawton, the Hero of the Philippines 65 

Daniel Boone and Life on the Frontier 69' 

Benjamin Franklin, the Noble Patriot 75 

John Paul Jones, the Famous Naval Hero 82' 

Cyrus Field and the Atlantic Cable 89 

Betsy Ross and Our American Flag 93 

Thomas A. Edison, the Celebrated Inventor 97 

Robert E. Lee, the Great Confederate Commander , 101 

Commodore Perry and His Victory on Lake Erie 105 

The Trick Jack Davis Played on a British Officer 110 

Robert Morris, the Great Financier 114 

William Penn, Founder of Pennsylvania 117 

Henry Clay, the Celebrated Orator 123 

Charles Goodyear, the Renowned Inventor. 127 

Frances Willard and Her Noble Work 131 

Elisha Kent Kane, the Arctic Explorer , 134 

Jambs Gordon Bennett and His Famous Newspaper .141 

ix 



X CONTExMTS 

FAGS 

General George G. Meade, the Hero of Gettysburg 145 

Independence Hall and the Old Liberty Bell 148 

Admiral Farragut, the Great Naval Commander .... .... 153 

Patrick Henry, the Orator of the Rev©lution 158 

Abraham Lincoln, the Preserver of the Union 162 

Admiral Dewey, the Hero of Manila 165 

Commodore Decatur and His Gallant Exploits 168 

Captain John Smith and Pocahontas 172 

"Stonewall'' Jackson, the Brilliant Confederate Gen::ral . . . 178 
General Phil Sheridan, the Dashing Cavalry Commander .... 182 

Theodore Roosevelt, the Famojjs Rough Rider 188 

Lieutenant Hobson and His Daring Deed • . 196 

Nathaniel Greene, Washington's Favorite General 201 

Carpenters' Hall and the Continental Congress 208 

I/IFE-Saving Men, the Heroes of the Sea 211 

General John C. Fremont, the Great Path-Finder 218 

Hayes and Hall, Celebrated Arctic Travellers 233 

Roger Williams and the Pilgrims 244 

Henry W. Longfellow, the Favorite Poet 252 








GENERAL ROBERT F.. LEE 




DECATUR'S CONFLICT WITH THE ALGERIN B AT TRIPOLI 




PUTNAM'S ESCAPE AT HORSE NECK 




:-;£ROES IN OUP WAR 'A':TH SPA'T-' 




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..!ij..i.i.S A. EDISON IN HIS LABORATORY 



GEORGE WASHINGTOI^ 

THE FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY. 



Y little friends, said Uncle Frank, I promised to tell you 
some stories about tlie great men and women of our 
country who have become famous. Are you ready to 
have me begin ? 

That is just what James and I have been wait- 
ing for, said Elsie, and now that cousin Mabel has 
come, we are all ready to listen. 

It was a beautiful morning and Uncle Frank and 
the young folks were seated on the porch, which was 
shaded by the thick leaves and branches of a large elm tree. What 
great American shall I tell you about first ? asked Uncle Frank. 

Washington, said James. Elsie and Mabel were of the same mind, 
and Uncle Frank leaned forward in his easy chair and began his story, 
while the young people listened with eager attention. Washington, he 
said, was born in Virginia on the 22d of February, 1732. His father, 
Augustine Washington, was a wealthy farmer, but his death, when 
George was eleven years old, deprived his son of his care, and also of the 
means of getting an education. 




GEORGE ATTENDING SCHOOL. 

He soon acquired all the learning he could gain at a country school, 
from which he passed to an academy of somewhat higher grade. Here 
he made a study of mathematics. His half-brother, Lawrence, who was 
fourteen years older than himself, had received a careful education and 
directed the studies of his younger brother. 

Though deprived of the care of his father at such an early age, it was 
the good fortune of George Washington to have in his mother an excel- 
lent guide. She was a woman of rare good sense, and was an earnest 
Christian. Her tenderness and sweet disposition won the love of her 
children, and her firmness enforced their obedience. George had a quick 
2 17 



18 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

temper, and from his mother lie learned the lesson of self-control which 
enabled him to govern it. 

As a boy Washington was noted for his truthfulness and courage. 
He was both liked and respected by his schoolmates, and such was their 
confidence in his fairness that he was usually chosen to settle their boyish 
disputes. He joined heartily in their sports and was noted for his skill 
in athletic exercises. He was a fearless rider and a good hunter, and by 
his fondness for manly sports became a very strong young man. He was 
cheerful and pleasant in temper, though rather shy and grave in manner. 
He early acquired habits of industry and order, and there are still many 
things to show the careful manner in which he discharged every duty at 
his early age. 

At the age of fourteen it was decided that he should enter the navy, 
and his brother Lawrence, who had served with credit in that branch of 
the service, had no difficulty in obtaining for him a midshipman's place. 

What is a midshipman. Uncle Frank? said James. 

AFFECTION FOR HIS MOTHER. 

That's right. Uncle Frank replied ; if there is anything you don't 
know, you should ask about it. People who respectfull}' ask questions 
are the ones who are likely to know the most. A midshipman, James, is 
one on board ship, I mean a war ship, whose business it is to carry mes- 
sages and orders from the officers in one part of the vessel to the officers 
in another part. 

The ship Washington was to join lay in the Potomac, and his trunk 
was sent on board; but at the last moment his mother, dreading the temp- 
tations of a seaman's life upon a boy so young, appealed to him by his 
affection for her to remain with her. Washington was sorely disappointed, 
but he yielded cheerfully to his mother's wish. 

His elder brother having married a connection of Lord Fairfax, his 
lordship gave George Washington, in his eighteenth year, the appoint- 
ment of surveyor, to survey his lands. In 1751 he was appointed one of 
the adjutant-generals of Virginia, M'ith the rank of major. Soon after- 
wards he was sent by the Governor of Virginia to carry a letter to the 
French commander on the Ohio, forbidding his encroachment on the lands 
belonging to Virginia. The journey was about 400 miles, 300 of which 
lay through a trackless wilderness, inhabited by Indians. He left Wil- 
liamsburg on the 31st of October, and delivered his letter on the 12th of 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 19 

December. Having received an answer lie set out immediately on liis re- 
turn, wliicli proved dangerous and toilsome. The following is his own 
account of it, which I will read: 

"As I was uneasy to get back, to make a report of my proceeding to 
his honor the governor, I determined to prosecute my journey the nearest 
way, through the woods, and on foot. I took my necessary papers, pulled 
ojS" my clothes, and tied myself up in a watch-coat. Then, with a gun in 
my hand, and pack on my back, in which were my papers and provisions, 
I set out with Mr. Gist, my guide, fitted in the same manner. We fell in 
with a party of Indians who had lain in wait for us. One of them fired 
not fifteen steps off, but fortunately missed ; we walked on the remaining 
part of the night, without making any stop, that we might get the start 
so far as to be out of reach of their pursuit the next day, as we were well 
assured that they would follow our track as soon as it was light. The 
next day we continued travelling until quite dark and got to the river. 
We expected to have found the river frozen, but it was not more than fifty 
yards from each shore. The ice, I suppose, had been broken up, for it 
was driving in vast quantities. 

RAFT GOT JAMMED IN THE ICE. 

" There was no way of getting over but on a raft, which we set about 
making with one poor hatchet, and finished just after sun-setting : this 
was one day's work. We got it launched, then went on board of it, and 
set off; but before we were half way over, we were jammed in the ice, in 
such a manner that we expected every moment our raft to sink and our- 
selves to perish. I put out my setting pole to endeavor to stop the raft, 
that the ice might pass by, when the rapidity of the stream threw it with 
so much violence against the pole, that it jerked me out into ten feet of 
water." At length, on the i6th of January, he arrived at Williamsburg; 
and delivered the important letter to the governor. 

Having been appointed colonel of a regiment raised to defend the 
rights of the colonists against the French, Washington distinguished 
himself greatly by his defense of Fort Necessity, although he was finally 
forced to give up the fight. Having resigned his commission, he retired 
in 1754, to Mount Vernon, on the Potomac, a country-seat which had been 
bequeathed him by his brother. In 1755 he accepted the invitation of 
Braddock, the British General, to enter his family as a volunteer, and ac- 
companied him in an unfortunate expedition to the Ohio, against the 



20 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



Frenct and Indians, the resnlt of whicli would probably have been very 
different from what it was, had Braddock followed the prudent advice of 

'^ Vhen the troops fell into the Indian trap, the officers were singled 
out by their savage foes and deliberately shot, Washington being the only 
aide that was not wounded, and on him devolved the whole duty of carry- 
ing out the orders of the commander-in-chief. Though he had two horses 
killed under him, and four balls through his coat, he escaped unhurt,. 




DISASTROUS DEFEAT OF GENERAL BRADDOCK. 

while every other officer on horseback was either killed or wounded. Dr 
Craik, the physician who attended him in his last sickness, was present at 
this battle, and says, " I expected every moment to see him fall. Nothing 
but the superintending care of Providence could have saved him from the 

fate of all around him." • 11 j- ,-• e 

After an action of three hours, the troops gave way in all directions 
and Colonel Washington and two others brought off Braddock who had 
been mortally wounded. Washington attempted to rally the retreating 
troops: but, as he said himself, it was like attempting to stop the wild 
bears of the mountains. The conduct of the regular troops was most 
powardly. The enemy were few in numbers, with no hope of victory. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 21 

The preservation of Washington during this battle was wonderful. 
He was exposed more than any other officer, and was particularly the ob- 
ject of savage attacks on account of his superior bravery. After the de- 
feat, a famous Indian warrior, who acted a distinguished part in that 
bloody tragedy, was heard to say that Washington was never born to be 
killed by a bullet ; " for," said he, " I had seventeen fair shots at him with 
my rifle, and yet I could not bring him to the ground." 

GALLANT CAPTURE OF THE FORT. 

To bring the French and Indian war to a close it was found necessary 
to capture Fort Duquesne, which stood where the city of Pittsburg does 
now. General Bouquet had charge of the American troops in this part 
of the country. He had with him a force of about two thousand men, 
chiefly Highlanders and Virginians. Learning from his scouts that Fort 
Duquesne was held by a garrison of only eight hundred men, of whom 
three hundred were Indians, Bouquet, without orders from General Forbes, 
resolved to attempt the capture of the fort by a sudden blow. 

He detached a force of eight hundred Highlanders and a company of 
Virginians, under Major Grant, to reconnoitre Fort Duquesne. The 
French were fully informed of all of Grant's movements, but they allowed 
him to approach unmolested, intending to disarm his vigilance and then 
attack him. 

The French commander had posted the Indians along the sides of 
the defile by which Grant was advancing, and at a given signal the gar- 
rison made a sudden sally from the fort against the Highlanders, while 
the Indians opened a heavy fire upon them from their place of conceal- 
ment. The regulars were quickly thrown into confusion, and their officers 
were found incapable of conducting such a mode of warfare. Attracted by 
the firing. Major Lewis, with a company of Virginians, hastened to the 
scene of the encounter, and by engaging the enemy hand-to-hand enabled 
the regulars to save themselves from a general massacre. 

The enterprise was on the point of being abandoned when fortunately 
three prisoners were brought in, from whom Washington drew the infor- 
mation that the garrison of Fort Duquesne was reduced to a very small 
force, that the Indians had all deserted the French, and that the expected 
reinforcements and supplies from Canada had not arrived. It was evident 
that a well-executed effort would result in the capture of the fort. 

It was then decided to continue the expedition- A force of twenty- 




WASHINGTON PLANTING THE FT. AG ON FORT DUQUESNB. 



22 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 23 

Sve hundred picked troops was placed under Washington's command, and 
be was ordered to push forward as rapidly as possible, and prepare the 
road for the advance of the main army. Washington was ably seconded 
in his movements, and the march was pressed with such vigor that in ten 
lays the army arrived in the vicinity of Fort Duquesne. 

The French now saw that the fall of the fort was inevitable. They 
bad but five hundred men, and Bradstreet's capture of Fort Frontenac had 
^ut them off from the reinforcements and supplies they had expected from 
Canada. Unwilling to stand a siege, the result of which was certain, they 
abandoned the fort on the night of the twenty-fourth of November, and 
embarking in flat boats, floated down the Ohio to join their countrymen 
in the valley of the Mississippi. On the morning of the twenty -fifth, 
Washington, with his gallant band, entered the fort and planted the flag 
on the ramparts just abandoned by the French. 

After the expulsion of the French from Ohio, and the cessation of 
hostilities on the part of the Indians, Washington retired to his farm, and 
soon after married Mrs. Custis, a lady of large fortune, and many accom- 
plishments. He continued to take an active part in public affairs, and on 
the approach of hostilities with Great Britain, was chosen to the first Con- 
gress. On the 14th of June, 1775, he was chosen commander-in-chief of 
the armies of the United Colonies. 

HARD FIGHTING BY WASHINGTON'S ARMY. 

He repaired immediately to the headquarters of the American army 
at Cambridge, Massachusetts, and having forced the British to evacuate 
Boston, led his army to New York, where he was doomed to witness the 
defeat of the Americans on Long Island, on the 27th of August, but the 
retreat of the army was conducted in a masterly manner. After the battle 
of White Plains, the prospects of the Americans appeared hopeless, but 
the successes of Trenton and Princeton inspired the army with fresh cour- 
age. By these, Philadelphia was saved and New Jersey regained. 

On the 25th of August, 1777, the British forces under Lord Howe, 
which had sailed from New York, disembarked at the ferry of Elk river, 
and on the loth of September, the battle of Brandywine was fought and 
the Americans defeated. In this battle, the young Marquis de la Fayette, 
who had come from France to help the American cause, displayed great 
courage, and though severely wounded, continued many hours on foot and 
horseback, endeavoring to rally and encourage the troops. 



24 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

Major Ferguson, wlio commanded a rifle corps a day or two previous 
to this battle, was tlie hero of a very singular adventure which he thus 
describes in a letter to a friend : 

" We had not lain long, when a rebel ofl&cer, remarkable by a hussar 
dress, pressed toward our army, within a hundred yards of my right flank, 
not perceiving us. He was followed by another, dressed in dark green 
and blue, mounted on a bay horse, with a remarkably high cocked hat. I 
ordered three good shots to stand near, and fire at them ; but the idea dis- 
gusting me, I recalled the order. The hussar, in returning, made a cir- 
cuit, but he passed within a hundred yards of lis ; upon which I advanced 
from the woods towards him. 

" Upon my calling, he stopped ; but, after looking at me, again pro- 
ceeded. I again drew his attention, and made signs to him to stop, level- 
ing my piece at him ; but he slowl}^ cantered away. By quick firing I 
could have lodged half a dozen balls in or about him, before he was out 
of my reach. I had only to determine ; but it was not pleasant to fire at 
the back of an unoffending individual, Avho was very coolly acquitting 
himself of his duty; so I let it alone. 

"The next day, the surgeon told me that the wounded rebel ofl&cers 
informed him that General Washington was all the morning with the light 
troops, and only attended by a French officer in the huzzar dress, he him- 
self dressed and mounted as I have before described. I am not sorry I 
did not know who it was at the time.'' 

WASHINGTON PRAYING AT VALLEY FORGE. 

The battle of Brandywine, in Pennsylvania, September ii, 1777, 
opened the way to Philadelphia for the British, who entered it on the 26th 
of September. After an unsatisfactory engagement at Germantown, the 
American troops were quartered for the winter at Valley Forge, where 
their sufferings were extreme. One day, a Quaker by the name of Potts 
had occasion to go to a certain place, which led him through a large grove 
at no great distance from headquarters. As he was proceeding along, he 
thought he heard a noise. He stopped and listened. 

He did hear the sound of a human voice at some distance, but quite 
indistinctly. As it was in the direct course he was pursuing, he went on, 
but with some caution. At length he came within sight of a man whose 
back was turned towards him, on his knees, in the attitude of prayer. 
Potts now stopped, and soon saw Washington himself, the commander of 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



25 



the American armies, returning from bending before tlie God of liosts 
above. 

Potts bimself was a pious man, and no sooner bad be reacbed borne. 
tban in the fulness of bis faitb, be broke fortb to bis wife Sarab : 

" All's well I all's well ! Yes, — George Wasbington is sure to beat 
tbe Britisb — sureP'' " "Wbat's tbe matter witb tbee, Isaac?" replied tbe 
startled Sarab. " Tbee seems to be mucb moved about sometbing." 

"Well! wbat if I am moved? Who would not be moved at sucb a 
sigbt as I bave 
seen to-day ? " 

"And Avbat 
hast thou seen 
Isaac ?" 

"Seen I I've 
seen a man at 
prayer I — in tbe 
woods ! — George 
Wasbington him- 
self I And now I 
say, — just wbat I 
have said, — all's 
well I George 
Washington is 
sure to beat tbe 
Britisb! — sure ! " 
In June, 1778, 
tbe Britisb evacu- 
ated Philadelphia 




VALLEY FORGE, PENNSYLVANIA, WHERE WASHINGTON'S 
ARMY WENT INTO WINTER QUARTERS. 



and retreated upon New York closely followed by Wasbington, who 
attacked them at Monmouth on tbe 24tb, and fought them with advant- 
age, although without gaining a decided victory. Washington, having 
given his orders to La Fayette, was personally engaged in forming the 
line of the main body near the court-bouse, and was speaking with Colonel 
Hartly of tbe Pennsylvania line, when a cannon ball struck just at his 
horse's feet, throwing tbe dirt in his face and over his clothes. The gen- 
eral continued giving orders without noticing the derangement of his toilet. 
" Never," says La Fayette, " was General Washington greater in war 
than in this conflict ; his presence stopped the retreat, his disposition 



26 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



fixed the victory. His fine appearance on horseback, his calm courage 
roused by the animation produced by the vexation of the morning, gave 
him the air best calculated to excite enthusiasm." 

In 1 78 1 Washington, in conjunction with Count Rochambeau, 
planned an expedition against New York, which was abandoned with a 
view of directing their operations to the south. Demonstrations, however, 
were made against the city, and Sir Henry Clinton, the British general, 
was not aware of the change in his intentions. The siege of Yorktown, 
Virginia, commenced on the 28th of September, and Lord Comwallis was 
compelled to surrender, after much hard fighting, on the 19th. 

_ _^_ . ___ _ _ _^_ If we are called upon 

-- toadmire the conduct and 

successes of Washington 
in action, our admiration 
is no less due to his be- 
havior in those intervals 
of repose when the Amer- 
ican forces had time to 
reflect upon their wants, 
and brood over their sup- 
posed grievances. He 
quelled mutiny, but he 
pitied the sufferings that 
produced it ; and while 
he was resolVed to enforce 

WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS AT VALLEY FORGE, subordination, he WaS nO 

less determined to give all the comfort which it was in his power to bestow. 

On the 25th of November, 1783, Washington made his public entry 
into the city of New York. On the 4th of December the principal officers 
of the army assembled at Francis' tavern in New York, to take a final 
leave of their beloved commander-in-chief. Soon after his excellency 
entered the room. His emotions were too strong to be concealed. Filling 
a glass, and turning to them he said : " With a heart full of love and 
gratitude, I now take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your latter 
days may be as prosperous and happy as j^our former ones have been 
glorious and honorable." * 

Having drank, he added, " I cannot come to each of you, but shall be 
obliged to you if each of you will come and take me by the hand." Gen- 




GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



27 



eral Knox, being nearest turned to him. Incapable of utterance, Wash- 
ington in tears grasped bis band, embraced and kissed him. In tbe same 
afifectionate manner, be took leave of eacb succeeding officer. 

Leaving tbe room be passed tbrougb tbe corps of ligbt infantry, and 
walked to Wbite Hall, wbere a barge waited to convey bim to Paulus' 
Hook. Tbe wbole company followed in mute and solemn procession, 
witb dejected countenances, testifying feelings of melancboly wbicb no 
pen can describe. Having entered tbe barge, be turned to tbe company, 
and waving bis bat, be bade tbem a silent adieu. Tbey paid bim tbe 
same affectionate compliment, and after tbe barge bad left tbem tbey re- 
turned in tbe same 
solemn manner to 
tbe place where 
they bad just as- 
sembled. 

On tbe 23d of 
December, 1783, 
General Washing- 
ton resigned bis 
commission to Con- 
gress then sitting 
at Annapolis. But 
be was not permit- 
ted to remain in his 
retirement • for the Washington's house, high street, Philadelphia. 

nation, aware of the importance of securing his wisdom and influence, 
chose bim the first President, under tbe new constitution of 1789. • 

In the first Presidency, the door of tbe President's house gathered but 
little rust on its binges, while often was its latch lifted by the " broken 
soldier." Scarce a day passed that some veteran of the heroic time did not 
present himself at headquarters. Tbe most battered of these types of tbe 
days of privation and trial were " kindly bid to stay," were offered refresh- 
ment and then dismissed witb lighter hearts and heavier pouches. 

So passed tbe many ; but not so witb one of Erin's sons. It was 
about tbe hour of tbe Tuesday levee, when German John, the porter, 
opened to a hearty rap, expecting to admit at least a Congressman or 
foreign Ambassador, when who should march into the hall but an old 
fellow whose weather-beaten countenance and well-worn apparel showed 




28 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

tim to be no great man. His introduction was short, but to the purpose. 
He had come to headquarters to see his honor's excellence, God bless 
him ! He was an old soldier. 

- lu vain the porter assured him that it would be impossible to see the 
President at that time ; a great company was momently expected ; the 
hall Avas not a fitting place ; would he not go to the steward's apartment 
and get something to eat and drink ? To all which Pat replied he was in 
no hurry ; that he would wait his honor's leisure ; — and taking a chair 
composed and made himself comfortable. 

And now passed ministers of state and foreign ministers, senators, 
judges, and the great and the gay ; meanwhile poor Pat stoutly maintained 
his post, gazing on the crowd till the levee ended. The President, about 
to retire to his library, was informed that an obstinate Irishman had taken 
possession of the hall, and would be satisfied with nothing short of an 
interview with the President himself. 

GENERAL WASHINGTON AND THE IRISH SOLDIER. 

The Chief good-naturedly turned into the hall. So soon as the old 
veteran saw his old commander, he roared out, " Long life to your honor's 
excellency ! " at the same time hurling his hat to the ground, and erect- 
ing himself with military precision. " Your honor will not remember me ] 
though many is the day that I have marched under your orders, and 
many's the hard knock I've had, too. I belonged to Wayne's brigade — • 
Mad Antony the British called him, and, by the powers, he was always 
mad enough for them. I was wounded in the battle of Germantown. 
Hurrah for America I and it does my heart good to see your honor,, and 
how is the dear lady and the little ones ? " 

Here the usually grave temperament of Washington gave way, as 
with a smile he replied that he was well, as was Mrs. Washington ; but 
they were unfortunate in having no children ; then pressing a token into 
the soldier's hand, he ascended the staircase to his library. The Irish- 
man followed with his eyes the retiring general, then looked again and 
again upon the token which he had received from his honor's own hand^ 
put it in his pocket, recovered his hat, which he placed with military 
exactness a little on one side, then took up his line of march, and as he 
passed the porter, he cried out, " there, now, you Hessian fellow, you see 
his honor's excellence has not forgotten an old soldier." 

Throughout the eight years of his Presidential career, Washington 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 29 

did nothing to forfeit the esteem of his fellow citizens, who acknowledged 
him, " first in peace, first in war, and first in the hearts of his country- 
men." An Englishman in Philadelphia, speaking of the Presidency of 
Washington, was expressing a desire to see him. While this conversa- 
tion passed, " there he goes," cried the American, pointing to a tall, erect, 
dignified personage, passing on the other side of the street. " That Gen- 
eral Washington!" exclaimed the Englishman; "where is his guard?" 
'■'■ Here r replied the American, striking on his breast with emphasis. 

On Friday, the 13th of December, 1799, exposure to wet produced an 
inflammatory disorder of the throat, which terminated fatally on the night 
of Saturday. The deep and wide-spread grief occasioned by this melan- 
choly event, assembled a great concourse of people for the purpose of pay- 
ing the last tribute of respect to the first of Americans. On Wednesday, 
the 1 8th of December, attended by military honors and the ceremonies of 
religion, his body was deposited in the family vault at Mount Vernon. 

This place is a short distance below Washington, and is reached by 
boat on the Potomac River. The old house that Washington lived in is 
still standing, and when we had our World's Fair at Chicago a house was 
built there exactly like Washington's at Mount Vernon. Of course, hun- 
dreds of thousands of persons visited it, and went through all the rooms, 
to see what kind of a house he lived in. Many persons who visit the 
city of Washington take a trip to Mount Vernon, which is one of the 
most interesting spots in our country. 

When Uncle Frank had finished his story of Washington his young 
friends thanked him for telling them so much about the Father of his 
Country. 

I trust that you will remember what I have said, replied Uncle Frank, 
and now I will ask you some questions and see if you can answer them. 

QUESTIONS. 

When and where was Washington born ? What chance did he have 
to get an education ? What wish of his mother did he obey ? What was 
his first service in the army ? What gallant act did he perforrc at Fort 
Duquesne ? Mention some of his exploits in the War of the Revolution ? 
What escapes from death did he have ? What high office was he called 
to after gaining the independence of his country ? Tell me the story of 
the Irishman who called on him when he was President. What was the 
cause of his death and how old was he ? 



EGBERT FULTON 

AISTD HIS STEAMBOAT. 




NCLE Frank laid aside his newspaper as the young 
people came tripping into the sitting-room, their faces 
all aglow with health and enjoyment. We are ready 
for another story, Uncle, said James, drawing a chair 
up for himself 

Mabel and Elsie want chairs, too, don't they ? said 
Uncle Frank. Why do you not wait upon them ? We 
must think of others beside ourselves. 

James smiled pleasantly, ran to the other side of 
the room, drew up two chairs, and soon the group were ready for the story. 
I must tell you to-day, began Uncle Frank, about Robert Fulton and 
the first steamboat that was ever a success. Fulton was bom in Little 
Britain, Lancaster Co., Pennsylvania. When a boy he was fond of ma- 
chinery, and if he did not understand how any machine worked, he would 
spend hours trying to find out. 

THE FIRST STEAMBOAT AND ITS MISHAP. 

When quite a young man Fulton went to France. During his resi- 
dence in Paris he had made the acquaintance of Mr. Robert R. Living- 
ston, then the American minister in France, who had previously been 
connected with some unsuccessful steamboat experiments at home. Mr. 
Livingston was delighted to find a man of Fulton's genius so well satis- 
fied that boats could be made to go by steam, and joined heartily with him 
in his efforts to prove it. 

Several small working models made by Fulton convinced Mr. Living- 
ston that the former had discovered and had overcome the cause of the 
failure of the experiments of other inventors, and it was finally agreed 
between them to build a large boat for trial on the Seine. That is a river 
which you will see if you ever go to Paris. This experimental steamer 
was furnished with paddle wheels, and was completed and launched early 
in the spring of 1803. 
30 



ROBERT FULTON. 



81 



On the very morning appointed for the trial, Fulton was aroused from 
his sleep^by a messenger from the boat, who rushed into his chamber, pale 
and breathless, exclaiming, " Oh, sir, the boat has broken in pieces and 
gone to the bottom!" Hastily dressing and hmrying to the spot, he 
found that the weight of the machinery had broken the boat in half 
and carried the whole structure to the bottom of the river. He at once 




ROBERT Fulton's first steamboat. 

set to work to raise the machinery, devoting twenty-four hours, without 
resting or eating, to the undertaking, and succeeded in doing so, but 
inflicted upon his constitution a strain from which he never entirely 
recovered. The machinery was very slightly damaged, but it was neces- 
sary to rebuild the boat entirely. This was accomplished by July of the 
same year, and the boat was tried in August with triumphant success, in 
the presence of the French National Institute and a vast crowd of the 
citizens of Paris. 

This steamer was very defective, but still so great an improvement 



32 ROBERT EULTON. 

upon all that had preceded it, that Messrs. Fulton and Livingbton deter- 
mined to build one on a larger scale in the waters of New York, the right 
of navigating which b}^ steam vessels had been secured by the latter as 
far back as 1798. 

Fulton returned to America and began building his boat. Every- 
body laughed at him and said it would be a failure, but he went on with 
his work, his boat attracting no less attention and exciting no less ridicule 
than the ark had received from the scoffers in the days of Noah. A 
steam-engine ordered in England was received in the latter part of 1806; 
and in the following spring the boat was launched. Fulton named her 
the Clermont, after the country-seat of his friend and partner, Chancellor 
Livingston. 

She was one hundred and sixty tons burthen, one hundred and thirty 
feet long, eighteen feet wide, and seven feet deep. Her boiler was twenty 
feet long, seven feet deep, and eight feet broad. The diameter of the 
paddle-wheels was fifteen feet. The boat was completed about the last of 
August, and she was moved by her machinery from the East River into 
the Hudson, and over to the Jersey shore. 

GREAT CROWD EXPECTS TO SEE A FAILURE. 

This trial, brief as it was, satisfied Fulton of its success, and lie an- 
nounced that in a few days the steamer would sail from New York for 
Albany. A few friends, including several scientific men and mechanics, were 
invited to take passage in the boat, to witness her performance ; and they 
accepted the invitation with a general conviction that they were to do but 
little more than witness another failure. 

Monday, September 10, 1807, came at length, and a vast crowd 
assembled along the shore of the North River to witness the starting. As 
the hour for sailing drew near, the crowd increased, and jokes were passed 
on all sides at the expense of the inventor, who paid little attention to 
them, however, but busied himself in making a final and close inspection 
of the machinery. 

Says Fulton, " The morning I left New York, there were not, per- 
haps, thirty persons in the cit}-- who believed that the boat would ever 
move one mile per hour, or be of the least use ; and while we were putting 
off from the wharf, which was crowded with spectators, I heard a number 
of sarcastic remarks." 

One o'clock, the hour for sailing, came, and expectation was at its 



ROBERT FULTON. 3» 

highest. The friends of the inventor were in a state of feverish anxiety 
lest the enterprise should come to grief, and the scoffers on the wharf 
were all ready to give vent to their shouts of derision. Precisely as the 
hour struck, the moorings were thrown off, and the Clermont moved 
slowly out into the stream. Volumes of smoke and sparks from her 
furnaces, which were fed with pine wood, rushed forth from her chimnej^, 
and her wheels, which were uncovered, scattered the spray far behind her. 
The spectacle she presented as she moved out gradually from her dock 
was certainly novel to the people of those days, and the crowd on the 
wharf broke into shouts of ricicule. 

LOUD CHEERS FROM THE VAST THRONG. 

Soon, however, the jeers grew silent, for it was seen that the steamer 
was by degrees increasing her speed. In a little while she was fairly 
under weigh, and making a steady progress up the stream at the rate of 
five miles per hour. The doubts of the spectators had been succeeded by 
surprise, and now this feeling gave way to great delight, and cheer after 
cheer went up from the vast throng. Many people followed the boat for 
some distance up the river shore. In a little while, however, the boat 
was observed to stop, and the enthusiasm of the people on the shore at 
once died out. The scoffers were again in their glory, and pronounced 
the boat a failure. 

Their chagrin may be imagined when, after a short delay, the steamer 
once more proceeded on her way, and this time even more rapidly than 
before. Fulton had discovered that the paddles were too long, and took 
too deep a hold on the water, and had stopped the boat for the purpose of 
shortening them. 

Having remedied this defect, the Clermont continued her voyage dur- 
ing the rest of the day and all night, without stopping, and at one o'clock 
the next day ran alongside the landing at Clermont, the seat of Chancellor 
Livingston. She lay there until nine the next morning, when she con- 
tinued her voyage toward Albany, reaching that city at five in the after- 
noon, having made the entire distance between New York and Alliany 
(one hundred and fifty miles) in thirty-two hours of actual running time, 
an average speed of nearly five miles per hour. On her return trip she 
reached New York in thirty hours, running time — exactly five miles per 
hour. Fulton states that during both trips he encountered a head wind. 

The river was at this time navigated entirely with sailing vessels, and 
3 



84 ROBERT FULTON. 

large numbers of these were met b}' the Clermont diiring her up and down 
trips. The surprise and dismay excited among the crews of these vessels 
by the appearance of the steamer was extreme. These simple people, the 
majority of whom had heard nothing of Fulton's experiments, beheld what 
they supposed to be a huge monster, vomiting fire and smoke from its 
throat, lashing the water with its fins, and shaking the river with its roar, 
approaching rapidly in the very face of both wind and tide. 

THOUGHT THE STEAMBOAT A TERRIBLE MONSTER. 

Some threw themselves flat on the decks of their vessels, where they 
remained in an agony of terror until the monster had passed, \\hile others 
took to their boats and made for the shore in dismay, leaving their vessels 
to drift helplessly down the stream. Nor was this terror confined to the 
sailors. The people dwelling along the shore crowded the banks to gaze 
upon the steamer as she passed by. A former resident of the neighbor- 
hood of Poughkeepsie thus describes the scene at that place, which will 
serve as a specimen of the conduct of the people along the entire river 
below Albany. I will read it to you : 

"The whole country talked of nothing but the sea-monster, belching 
forth fire and smoke. The fishermen became terrified, and rowed home- 
wards, and they saw nothing but destruction devastating their fishing- 
grounds ; while the wreaths of black vapor, and rushing noise of the 
paddle-wheels, foaming with the stirred-up waters, produced great excite- 
ment among the boatmen, which continued without abatement, until the 
character of the curious boat had been understood." 

The alarm of the sailors and dwellers on the river rLiore disappeared 
as the character of the steamer became better known ; b' it when it was 
found that the Clermont was to run regularly between Mew York and 
Albany, as a packet-boat, she became the object of the mo.^t intense hatred 
on the part of the boatmen on the river, who feared that sh^ would entirely 
destroy their business. In many quarters Fulton and his nivention were 
denounced, and frequently attempts were made by captains of sailing vessels 
to sink the Clermont by running into her. She was several times damaged 
in this way, and the hostility of the boatmen became so great that it ^^as 
necessary for the Legislature of New York to pass a law declanng combi- 
nations to destroy her, or willful attempts to injure her, public oitences 
punishable by fine and imprisonment. 

It had been supposed that Fulton's object was to produce a siAijaiw 



STEPHEN GIRARD. 35 

capable of navigating the Mississippi River, and much surprise was occa* 
sioned by the announcement that the Clermont was to be permanently 
employed upon the Hudson. She continued to ply regularly between 
New York and Alban}', carrying passengers and freight. 

This, said Uncle Frank, was the beginning of steam navigation. 
Look now at our own great battleships and fine ocean steamers. 

Now, let me ask what 3'ou learn from this story ? 

Fulton went right ahead and wouldn't give up, said James 

QUESTIONS. 

Who built the first successful steamboat ? Where was he born and 
when ? Who became his friend in Paris ? On what river did Fulton 
navigate his first boat ? Describe the scene as the Clermont started. 
At what rate per hour did she make her first voyage to Albany and back ? 
What did the sailors on the river and the people on shore think of her ? 



STEPHEN GIRAED 

AND HIS COLLEGE FOR POOR BOYS. 



E are readj^, Uncle Frank, if you are, said James as the 
young people gathered about the table in the sitting- 
room. The weather was threatening and Uncle Frank 
and his young friends remained indoors. 

What will you tell us about to-day? asked Mabel. 
I was thinking of Stephen Girard, said Uncle 
Frank. 

I know, said Elsie ; he was that rich Philadelphia 
merchant that was such a droll man. 
Yes, very singular, bi;t possessed of many good traits, ver}^ shrewd 
and odd, yet a man who became very rich, said Uncle Frank. 

One May morning, in the year 1776, the mouth of the Delaware Bay 
was shrouded in a dense fog, which cleared away toward noon, and 
revealed several vessels just off the capes. From one of these, a sloop, 
floated the flag of France and a signal of distress. An Americau ship ran 
alongside the stranger, in aiiswer to her signal, and found that the French 




36 



STEPHEN GIRARD. 



captain had lost Ws reckoning in a fog, and was in total ignorance of his 
whereabouts. 

His vessel, he said, was bound from New Orleans to a Canadian port, 
and he was anxious to proceed on his voyage. The American skipper 
informed him of his localit}', and also of the fact that war had broken out 
between the colonies and Great Britain, and that the American coast was 

so well lined with British 
cruisers that he would 
never reach port but as 
a prize. 

"What shall I do?" 
cried the Frenchman, in 
great alarm. 

" Enter the bay, and 
make a push for Phila- 
delphia," was the reply. 
" It is yourouly chance." 
The Frenchman pro- 
tested that he did not 
know the way, and had 
no pilot. The American 
captain, pitying his dis- 
tress, found him a pilot, 
and even loaned him five 
dollars, which the pilot 
demanded in advance. 
The sloop got under 
weigh again, and passed 
into the Delaware, be- 
yond the defenses which 
had been erected for its 
protection, just in time to avoid capture bjr a British war vessel which 
now made its appearance at the mouth of the bay. 

Philadelphia was reached in due time, and, as the war bade fa^r to put 
an end to his vo5'ages, the captain sold the sloop and her cargo, of whid' 
he was part owner, and, entering a small store in Water street, began V 
business of a grocer and wine-bottler. His capital was small, his busine=- 
trifling in extent, and he himself labored under the disadvantage of bti„.^ 




STEPHEN GIRARD. 



STEPHEN GIRARD. 37 

almost unable to speak the English language. In person he was short 
and stout, with a dull, repulsive countenance, which his bushy eyebrows 
and solitary eye (being bliud in the other) made almost hideous. He was 
cold and reserved in manner, and was disliked by his neighbors, the most 
of whom were afraid of him. 

This man was Stephen Girard, who was afterward destined to play so 
important a part in the history of the city to which the mere chances of 
war sent him a stranger. 

He was born at Bordeaux, in France, on the 2ist of May, 1750, and 
was the eldest of the iive children of Captain Pierre Girard, a mariner, or 
sailor, of that city. His life at home was a hard one. At the age of eight 
years, he discovered that he was blind in one eye, and the grief which this 
discovery caused him appears to have soured his entire life. He afterward 
declared that his father treated him with considerable neglect, and that, 
while his younger brothers were sent to college, he was made to content 
himself with merely a knowledge of reading and writing. 

A CABIN BOY ON A SHIP. 

When he was quite young, his mother died, and, as his father soon 
married again, the cuffs and scoldings of a step-mother were added to his 
other troubles. When about thirteen years of age, he left home, with hi;? 
father's consent, and began, as a cabin-boy, the life of a sailor. For nine 
years he sailed between Bordeaux and the French West Indies, rising 
steadily from his position of cabin-boy to that of mate. He improved his 
leisure time at sea, until he was not only master of the art of navigation, 
but generally well informed for a man in his station. 

His father possessed sufficient influence to procure him the command 
of a vessel, in spite of the law of France which required that no man 
should be made master of a ship unless he had sailed two cruises in the 
royal navy and was twenty-five years old. Gradually Girard was enabled 
to amass a small sum of money, which he invested in cargoes easily dis- 
posed of in the ports to which he sailed. Three years after he was 
licensed to command, he made his first appearance in the port of Philadel- 
phia. He was then twenty-six years old. 

From the time of his arrival in Philadelphia he devoted himself to 
.usiness with an energy and industry which never failed. He despised 
no labor, and was willing to undertake any honest means of making a liv- 
ing. He bought and sold any thing, from groceries to old "junk." His 



38 STEPHEN GIRARD. 

chief profit, however, was in his wine and cider, which he bottled and sold 
readily. His business prospered, and he was regarded as a thriving man 
from the start. It was considered quite honorable in those days to sell 
wines and liquors. 

In July, 1777, he married Mary Lum, a servant girl of great beauty, 
and somewhat cross and ill-tempered as well. The union was an unhappy 
one, as the husband and wife were unsuited to each other. Seven years 
after her marriage, Mrs. Girard showed symptoms of insanity, which 
became so decided that her husband was compelled to place her in the 
State Asylum for the Insane. He appears to have done every thing in his 
power to restore her to reason. Being pronounced cured, she returned to 
her home, but he was afterward compelled to place her permanently in the 
Pennsylvania Hospital, where, nine months after, she gave birth to a 
female child, which happily died. Mrs. Girard never recovered her rea- 
son, but died in 1815, and was buried in the hospital grounds. 

FLEES FROM PHILADELPHIA FOR SAFETY. 

To go back a little, Girard fled from Philadelphia, with his wife, in 
September, 1777, at the approach of the British, and purchased a house at 
]\Ioui!t Plolly, near Burlington, New Jersey, where he carried on his bot- 
tli'.iij business. His claret commanded a ready sale among the British in 
Philadelphia, and his profits were large. In June, 1778, the city was 
given up by Lord Howe, the British commander, and he was allowed to 
return to his former home. 

Though he traded with the British, Girard considered himself a true 
patriot, as indeed he was. On the 27th of October, 1778, he took the oath 
of allegiance required by the State of Pennsylvania, and renewed it the 
year following, that is, he promised to be a good, loyal citizen. The war 
almost destroyed the commerce of the country, which was slow in recover- 
ing its former prosperity ; but, in spite of this discouraging circumstance, 
Girard worked on steadily, scorning no employment, however ^lurable, 
that would yield a profit. 

Already he had formed the plans which led to his immense wealth. 
Whatever he undertook prospered, and though his gains were small, they 
were earefully laid up, and at the proper time invested in such a manner 
as to produce a still greater yield. Stephen Girard knew the value of lit- 
tle things, and he knew how to take advantage of the most trifling cir- 
cumstance. His career teaches what may be done with these little things, 



STEPHEN GIRARD. 8fl 

and shows how even a few dollars, properly managed, may be made to 
produce as many thousands. 

x\t the outbreak of the great insurrection among the black people in 
St. Domingo, in 1791, Girard had two vessels lying in one of the ports of 
that island. At the first signal of danger, a number of planters sent their 
valuables on board of these ships for safe keeping, and went back to their 
estates for the purpose of securing more. They never returned, doubtless 
falling victims to the fury of the brutal negroes, and when the vessels 
were ready to sail there was no one to claim the propert}'- they contained. It 
was taken to Philadelphia, and was most liberally advertised by Mr. Girard, 
but as no owner ever appeared to demand it, it was sold, and the proceeds 
— about fifty thousand dollars — turned into the merchant's own coffers. 
This was a great assistance to him, and the next year he began the build- 
ing of those splendid ships which enabled him to engage so actively in 
the Chinese and East India trades. 

GIRARD HAD NO FAITH IN LUCK. 

His course was now onward and upward to wealth. At first his ships 
merely sailed between Philadelphia and the port to which they were origi- 
nally destined ; but at length he was enabled to do more than this. Load- 
ing one of his ships with grain, he would send it to Bordeaux, where the 
proceeds of her cargo would be invested in wine and fruit. These she 
would take to St. Petersburg and exchange for hemp and iron, which were 
sold at Amsterdam for coin. From Amsterdam she would proceed to 
China and India, and, purchasing a cargo of silks and teas, sail for Phila- 
delphia, where the final purchase was sold by the '^wner for cash or good 
paper. His success was constant, and was attributed oy his brother mer- 
chants to luck. 

Stephen Girard had no faith in luck. He never trusted anything to 
chance. He was a thorough seaman, and was perfect master of the 
knowledge required in directing long voyages. He was familiar with the 
ports with which he dealt, and was always able to obtain such information 
concerning them as he desired, in advance of others. He trusted nothing 
of importance to anybody else. His instructions to the commanders of 
his ships were always full and precise. 

Upon one occasion one of his best captains was told to buy his cargo 
of teas at a certain port. Upon reaching home he was summoned by the 
merchant to his presence. 



*0 STEPHEN GIRARD. 

"Captain Blank," said Mr. Girard, sternly, "you were told to buy' 
your cargo at Canton." 

" That is true, Mr. Girard," replied the Captain, " but upon reaching 
that port I found I could do so much better at Hong Kong, that I felt 
iustified in proceeding to the latter place." 

" You should always obey your orders, sir," was the stern reply. 

"I wanted to serve your interests, sir. The result ought to justify 
me in my act, since it put many thousands more into your pocket than if 
I had bought where I was instructed." 

" Captain Blank," said Girard, " I take care of my own interests. 
You should have obeyed your orders if you had broken me. Nothing can 
excuse your disobedience. You will hand in your accounts, sir, and con- 
sider yourself discharged from my service." 

THE CAPTAIN WHO DISOBEYED WAS DISCHARGED. 

He was as good as his word, and, though the captain's disobedience 
had vastly increased the profit of the voyage, he dismissed him. 

Tlie way he kept his word is well shown by a circumstance which 
occurred long after he was one of the " money kings " of the land. He 
was once engaged with his cashier in guessing the length of time a man 
would take in counting a million dollars, telling out each dollar separ- 
atel}'. The dispute became warm, and the cashier declared that he could 
make a million of dots with ink in a few hours. ' 

" I'll tell you what I'll do," said Girard, who was thoroughly vexed 
b}?- the opposition of the other, " I'll wager five hundred dollars that I can 
ride in my gig from here to my farm, spend two hours there, and return 
before you can make your million dots with ink." 

The cashier, after a moment's reflection, accepted the wager, and Mr. 
Girard departed to his farm. He returned in a few hours, confident that 
he had won. The cashier met him with a smile. 

" Where is my money ?'' asked Girard, triumphantly. 

■' The money is mine," replied the cashier. " Come and see." 

He led the merchant to an unused room of the bank, and there, to 
his dismay, Girard saw the walls and ceiling covered with ink, which the 
cashier had dashed on them with a brush. 

" Do you mean to say there are a million dots here?" he cried, angrily. 

'' Count them and see," replied the cashier, laughing. " You know 
the wager was a million of dots with ink." 



STEPHEN GIRARD. 41 

'' But I expected you would make them with the pen." 
" I did not undertake anything of the kind." 

The joke was too good, and the merchant not only paid the amount 
.■>f the wager, but the cost of cleaning the walls. 

A VERY SINGULAR MAN. 

In the midst of all his wealth, which in 1828 was estimated at ten 
millions of dollars, Girard was a lonely old man. He lived in a dingy lit- 
tle house in Water street. His wife had died in an insane asylum, and he 
was childless. He was repulsive in person. He was feared by his 
employes — by all who had dealings with him — and liked by none. He 
was mean and close in his personal habits, living on less, perhaps, than 
any of his clerks, and deriving little or no benefit from his vast wealth, so 
far as his own comfort was concerned. He gave nothing in charity. 
Lazarus would have lain at his doors a life-time without being noticed by 
him. He was lonely, soured, cold, with a heart of stone, and fully aware 
of his personal unpopularity. Yet he valued wealth — valued it for the 
power it gave him over men. 

He had no vices, no bad habits ; his whole soul was in his business. 
He knew that his only hope of praise from liis fellow-men was in his 
wealth, and he was resolved that nothing should make him swerve from 
his endeavor to get a fortune which should make him all powerful in life 
and remembered in death. He sought no friends, and was silent as to his 
career, saying to those who questioned him about it, " Wait till I am dead ; 
my deeds will show what I was.'' 

In the summer of 1793 the yellow fever broke out with fearful vio- 
lence in Philadelphia. The citizens fled in dismay, leaving the plague- 
smitten city to its fate. Houses were left empty, and the streets were 
deserted. It was a season of horror and dread. Those who could not get 
away avoided each other, and the sufferers were left to languish and die. 
Monc}^ could not buy nurses in sufficient numbers, and often the victims 
lay unburied for days in the places where they had died. So terrible was 
the panic that it seemed that nothing could stay it. 

Meetings were held at the City Hall, and a volunteer committee was 
appointed to superintend the measures to be taken for checking the pesti- 
lence. Twenty-seven men volunteered to serve, but only twelve had the 
courage to fulfill their promise. They set to work promptly. The hos- 
pital al Bush Hill was reported by the physician to be in a very bad state 



43 STEPHEN GIRARD. 

—without order, dirty and foul, and in need of nurses. The last, iie 
stated, could not be had for any price. Two of the committee now stepped 
forward and nobl}' offered themselves as managers of the hospital. They 
were Stephen Girard and Peter Helm. 

Girard was now a man of wealth and influence, yet he did not hesitate 
to take the post from which others shrank. He and Helm were regarded 
as doomed men, but they did not falter from their task. They went to 
work at once. Girard chose the post of honor, which was the post of dan- 
ger — the management of the interior of the hospital. Order began to 
appear, medicines and nurses were procured, and the very next day the 
committee were informed that the hospital had been cleaned and put in 
shape, and was prepared to receive patients. 

SHOWED HIMSELF TO BE A HERO. 

Girard opened his purse liberally, and spared no expense where 
money would avail. But this was not all. Besides looking after the hos- 
pital, he went about through the city seeking the sick and conveying them 
to the hospital. 

In the great scarcity of help, he used frequently to receive the sick 
and dying at the gate, assist in carrying them to their beds, nurse them, 
receive their last messages, Avatch for their last breath, and then, wrapping 
them in the sheet on which they had died, carry them out to the burial 
ground and place them in the trench. He had great difficulty of finding 
any kind of fabric in which to wrap the dead, when the vast number of 
burials had exhausted the suppl}' of sheets. " I would put them," he 
said, " in any old rag I could find." 

If he ever left the hospital, it was to assist in removing the sick from 
the houses in which they were dying without help. One scene of this 
kind, witnessed by a merchant who was hurrying past with camphored 
handkerchief pressed to his mouth, affords us a vivid glimpse of this 
heroic man engaged in his noble work. A carriage, rapidly driven by a 
black man, broke the silence of the deserted and grass-grown street. It 
stopped before a frame house, and the driver, first having bound a hand- 
kerchief over his mouth, opened the door of the carriage, and quickly 
remounted to the box. 

A short, thick-set man stepped from the coach and entered the house. 
In a minute or two the observer, who stood at a safe distance watching the 
proceedings, heard a shuffling noise in the entry, and soon saw the stout 



STEPHEN GIRARD. 43 

little man supporting with extreme difficulty a tall, gaunt, yellow-visaged 
victim of the pestilence. Girard held round the waist the sick man, whose 
yellow face rested against his own ; his long, damp, tangled hair mingled 
«ith Girard's ; his feet dragging helpless upon the pavement. Thus he 
drew him to the carriage door, the driver turning his face from the sight, 
far from offering to assist. Partly dragging, partly lifting, Girard suc- 
ceeded, after long and severe exertion, in getting him into the vehicle. 
He then entered it himself, and the carriage drove toward the hospital. 

For sixty days Mr. Girard continued to discharge his duties, never 
absenting himself from his post, being nobly sustained by Peter Helm. 

Such acts, said Uncle Frank, are grand. You will hear of many 
deeds of heroism, my young friends, but nothing more sublime and worthy 
of praise than what I have just told you. 

MEETS WITH A SERIOUS ACCIDENT. 

To the last Girard was active. In 1S30, having reached the age of 
eighty, he began to lose the sight of his eye ; yet he would have no assist- 
ance. In attempting to cross a crowded street, he was knocked down by 
a passing wagon and injured severely. His ear was cut off, his face 
bruised, and his sight entirely destroyed. His health now declined rap- 
idly, and on the 26th of December, 1831, he died. 

His immense wealth was carefully divided by his will. He gave to 
his surviving brother and eleven of his nieces sums ranging from five to 
twenty thousand dollars, and to his remaining niece, who was the mother 
of a very large family, he gave sixty thousand dollars. He gave to each 
of the captains then in his employ who had made two voyages in his 
service, and who should bring his ship safely into port, fifteen hundred 
dollars. To each of his apprentices he gave five hundred dollars. To his 
old servants yearly sums, ranging from three to five hundred dollars. 

He gave thirty thousand dollars to the Pennsylvania Hospital, in 
which his wife had been cared for ; twenty thousand to the Deaf and 
Dumb Asylum ; ten thousand to the Orphan Asylum ; ten thousand to 
the Lancaster schools ; ten thousand for the purpose of providing the 
poor in Philadelphia with free fuel ; ten thousand the Society for the 
Relief of Distressed Sea-Captains and their Families ; twenty thousand to 
the Masonic Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania, for the relief of poor members ; 
six thousand for the establishment of free school in Passyunk, near 
Philadelphia : five hundred thousand dollars t the Corporation of Phila- 



44 



STEPHEN GIRARD. 



elphia for certain improvements in the city ; three hundred thousand to 
the State of Pennsylvania for her canals ; and aj portion of his valuable 
estates in Louisiana to New Orleans, for the improvements of that city. 

The remainder of his property, worth then about six millions of 
dollars, he left to trustees for the erection and endowment of the noble 
^ollege for Orphans, in Philadelphia, which bears his name. 




GIRARD COLLEGE, PHILADELPHIA. 

Thus it will be seen that this man, who seemed steeled to resist 



appeals for private charity in life, in death gave all his money to the 
noblest objects, and I am not surprised that persons who wished to honor 
his memory set up a bronze statue of him on the west side of the City 
Hall in Philadelphia. 

QUESTIONS. 

How did Girard first come to visit Philadelphia ? Where was he. 
bom and when ? What was his occupation in early life ? Whom did he 
marry ? What were his prominent traits of character ? How did he 
profit by the insurrection in St. Domingo ? Why did he discharge one of 
his ship captains ? What singular bet did he make with his cashier and 
who won it? Narrate what Girard did when the yellow fever visited 
Philadelphia. Repeat the story of Girard carrying a man to a carriage 
to get him to the hospital. What accident did he meet with and how did 
it affect his health ? How did he dispose of his vast fortune ? 



MOLLY PITCHER 

AKD HEE BRAYE DEED. 




^lEAR Uncle Frank, said Elsie, Mabel and I would like 
' 3^ou to tell us about M0II3' Pitcher. We read some- 
tbing about her in a newspaper the other day, but 
we don't know the whole story ; so please tell us. 

I would like to know it too, said James ; who 
was she, and what did she do ? 

I will tell you, said Uncle Frank, and you will 
be interested I am sure, because it is the story of a 
very brave woman. ( It was the custom during the 
American Revolution for women, generally wives of private soldiers, to 
follow the armies into the field as laundry women. The records of Sir 
Henry Clinton's English army show this fact, and to some extent this 
was true of the Americans. Every regiment had women who did duty in 
laundering for the officers and had quarters assigned them and wagons to 
carry them from place to place. The records of the battle of Monmouth 
show that these camp followers of Sir Henry's army were sent from 
Philadelphia around the Delaware Bay to New York in ships or trans- 
ports. 

In Washington's army the same custom was followed. There were 
doubtless a number of women who followed Washington to Monmouth 
and so on to New Brunswick, and who, after the war, settled here and 
there throughout the country, 

Molly Pitcher's right name was Mary Ludwig. She was the daughter 
of John George Ludwig, and was born on October the 13th, 1744. She 
was employed as a domestic at Carlisle, Pennsylvania, in the family of 
General William Irvine. She was married to John Hays, a barber, July 
the 24th, 1769. He enlisted in Proctor's First Pennsylvania Artillery, 
and was followed by his wife. 

No account of the battle of Monmouth is complete without this story 
of Molly Pitcher. Some years ago the people of New Jersey built a 
monument on the field where the battle was fought. On this monument 

45 



46 MOLLY PITCHER. 

several scenes are pictured iu what we call bronze reliefs. The pictures 
are such as you might draw with your pencil on paper, only they are in 
bronze and so do not fade or wear out. The fact that Molly is remem- 
bered on this monument shows that she did something worthy of honor. 

As the story goes she was a powerful woman dressed in the skirts of 
her own sex, the coat of an artilleryman, cocked hat and feather. 

She must have looked very gay, said James, and what a strange thing 
for a woman to take the place of a soldier and go into battle. 

BATTERIES FIRING FURIOUSLY. 

Yes, said Uncle Frank, that is the strange thing about it. The 
battle of Monmouth was fought June 28, 1778. General Washington 
was the commander on the American side, and General Clinton on the 
other. Before the real battle commenced one American battery and 
another English, that were not very far from each other, began a hot fire. 
Molly's husband was connected Avith the American battery and was help- 
ing to serve the guns. The day was very warm and he and the other 
artillerymen suffered very much from thirst. Molly was not far away 
watching the fight. She saw that the men were thirsty, and, obtaining 
a bucket, she began to bring water for them from a neighboring spring. 

While thus engaged she saw her husband fall. She ran to his aid, 
but he was dead when she reached him. Just then poor Molly heard the 
ofiicer order the gun removed, because, as he said, he could not fill the 
post with so brave a man as he had lost. Molly's patriotism got the 
better of her fear, and, facing the officer, she asked to be allowed to take 
her husband's place. Her request was granted^ and she handled the gun 
with such skill and courage that all who saw her were filled with admiration. 

She was a very brave woman, said Mable. What do you think you 
would have done, Elsie, if you had been there ? 

I doubt, said Elsie, if I would have had such courage as Molly had, 
but I presume that if James were to have such a chance to show his bravery 
he would step right up and help man the guns. 

Indeed, I would, said James, straightening himself up to his full 
height, and looking as much like a soldier as any boy could. 

I was going to tell you, said Uncle Frank, that the attention of General 
Washington was called to Molly's brave act, and it has been said that he 
gave her the rank of sergeant, and she was granted half-pay during life. 
She was known afterward as Captain Molly. Her story is certain»y a 



MOLLY PITCHER. 47 

very thrilling one, and such as we seldom read in history. Men, you 
know, are expected to do the fighting and women to do the nursing. 

Although I have told you Molly's story, I will read to you an account 
of her bravery that I happen to have here. It is much the same as what 
I have narrated, but may bring out some points I omitted : 

The particular incident of the Battle of Monmouth, in which Molly 
made such a name for herself, may be described as follows : the enemy 
having attacked Livingstone's and Vamum's brigade, which lined a hedge- 
row across an open field, some American artillery to6k post on a knoll 
in the rear of this fence, but the British cavalry and a large body of in- 
fantry, skilled in the use of the bayonet, charging upon the Americans, 
broke their ranks. It was during this part of the action that Molly dis- 
played great courage and presence of mind. 

MOLLY'S HUSBAND KILLED AT HIS POST. 

While her husband was managing one of the field pieces, she con- 
stantly brought him water from a spring near by. A shot from the enemy 
killed him at his post, and the officer in command, having no man able to 
fill his place, ordered the piece to be withdrawn. Molly saw her husband 
fall as she came from the spring, and also heard the order. She dropped 
her bucket, seized the rammer, and vowed that she would fill the place of 
her husband at the gun and avenge his death. 

She performed the duty with a skill and courage which attracted the 
attention of all who saw her. On the following morning, covered with 
dirt and blood, General Greene presented her to Washington, who, admir- 
ing her bravery, conferred upon her the commission of Sergeant. The 
French officers, charmed by the story of her braverj', made her many 
presents. She would sometimes pass along the French lines with her 
cocked hat, and get it almost filled with crowns. 

Some years after the thrilling incident at Monmouth she married 
George McKolly, another soldier ; this name was also written McCauley, 
and so appears on Molly's tombstone. She lived for many years at the 
Carlisle Barracks after the Revolution, cooking and washing for the 
soldiers. Subsequently she kept a small store in Carlisle. 

Bold Molly of Monmouth's home was for years one of the show 
places of Carlisle, and it really seems a pity that the time has at last came 
when this relic of one of the most famous characters of the Revolutionary 
^_riod had to be torn down. In the cemetery left to the city by William 



48 



GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 



Penn, Molly's Pitcher's monument is to be seen among the graves of the 
old inhabitants, bearing the following inscription : 

MOLUE McCAULBY, 
Renowned in history as 

" MoLLiE Pitcher," 
the heroine of monmouth. 

Died January 22, 1823, 

Aged seventy-nine years. 

Erected by the citizens of Cumberland County, 

July the Fourth, 1876. 

QUESTIONS. 

Why did women go with the armies in the war of the Revolution ? 
What was Molly Pitcher's maiden name ? When was she born ? Whom 
did she marry, and to what branch of General Washington's army did she 
belong ? Give an account of the battle of Monmouth and what Molly did 
when her husband fell. What did Washington think of her act? Who 
was Molly's second husband ? What about the inscription on her tomb- 
stone ? 

GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM 

AND HIS FAMOUS EXPLOITS. 



<'^^^^^^^;;;^• TEPPING into the summer house. Uncle Frank -ook 



his seat in his arm-chair, put down his walking stick 
and said, I have something very interesting to tell you 
to-day. 

James was already there waiting for the story to 
begin, and very soon there were two additions to the 
company. These were Elsie and Mabel. The young 
folks were always interested in Uncle Frank's stories; 
there was much to be learned from them, while, at the 

same time, they afforded pleasant entertainment. I will tell yoii to-daj' 

said Uncle Frank, about General Israel Putnam. 

They used to call him " Old Put,'' said Uncle Frank, but this was 

ouly a nickname and was not on account of any disrespect for tiim. He 




GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 



4d 



was bom a good wHle ago in Danvers, Massachusetts. The date of his 
birth was January 7th, 17 18. This, you remember, was before the Amer- 
ican Revolution, in which our country gained its independence. Very few 
men made so many sacrifices or fought so gallantly in that great struggle 
as did General Putnam. 

Before telling you about this, we must follow him to his new home 
near Pomfret in Connecticut, where he bought a farm and settled in 1739, 
when but twenty-one years of age. Of course, all that part of the country 
was new at this time, and the forests were frequented by wild beasts, such 
as bears, wolves, and pan- 
thers. It so happened that 
there was an old she-wolf 
that gave great trouble to 
the settlers, and although 
this wolf had been seen at 
difi"j;-int times by a num- 
ber of persons, nobody had 
succeededin capturing her- 
Young Putnam determined 
that he would try and put 
an end to the pranks of 
Mrs. Wolf, and so he gath- 
ered several young men, 
quite as bold and fearless 
as himself, and they started 
out to make the capture. 

They found the cavern ' general isr.\el putnam. 

where the wolf made her home, but the opening at the entrance was so 
small that only one person could crawl in. It was a perilous undertaking 
for any one to enter the cave, but young Putnam resolved to take the risk. 
He had ropes tied to his feet by which he was to be pulled out by his com- 
rades when he gave the signal. Into the cavern he went with a lighted 
torch in one hand and his gun in the other. For a few minutes he saw 
nothing, for the wolf was in the farther end of the cavern. Not knowing 
but he would be pounced upon at any moment, Israel held up his torch 
and peered into the darkness. 

Finally at the farther end of the cave he saw two bright eyes glaring 
at him, It was a question whether he would capture the wolf or the woli 
4 




50 GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

■would make an onslaught on him. Instantly he leveled his gun and, 
being a good shot, laid the wolf sprawling on the floor of the cave. His 
companions, lieating the discharge of his gun, immediately pulled him 
out of the cav«. The story of young Putnam's bold exploit was told far 
and near. 

As might be expected, a young man whose personal courage was so 
great would not hesitate to join an army going forth for the defense of his 
country. In 1755 he obtained a commission as a captain in a regiment of 
1,000 men, which Connecticut sent to repel a threatened French invasion 
of New York, and was present at the battle of Lake George. His patri- 
otic spirit animated his troops, who looked upon him as a brave and able 
commander, and were ready to follow wherever he should lead the way. 

BATTLES BETWEEN INDIANS AND WHITE SETTLERS. 

Our country at this time was inhabited by savage tribes, and man} 
were the wars and skirmishes they had with the white settlers. Tlie 
French and Indian War, which broke out in 1754, was one of the thrilling 
periods of our country's history, and in this war young Putnam distin- 
guished himself. He did this not merel}' at the Battle of Lake George, 
but elsewhere. Iti 1758 he was captured bj^ the savages, tortured, and 
then bound to a tree and was about to be burned to death. 

The Indians had him completely in their power and had already 
decided his doom. It was useless to plead with them ; they were blood- 
thirsty and meant to take his life. It looked as if Putnam were about to 
die by the most cruel death that can be inflicted upon a human being 
He was tied to a tree, dry wood was piled around him and lighted. The 
flames were already beginning to scorch him when a French officer who 
had jiist arrived on the ground rushed forward, and scattering the fire- 
brands with his sword, rescued the victim. 

That was a very narrow escape, wasn't it ? said James. 

Yes, in a few minutes more his life would have been biirned out of 
him, but this humane French officer was not willing to see even an enemy 
burned at the stake and boldly saved Putnam's life. 

In 1759 he was given command of a regiment, and in 1764 he helped 
to relieve Detroit, then besieged by Pontiac the Indian chief 

After this Putnam led a quiet life at home for ten years, during which 
time he niade his farmhouse into an inn and became very prominent 
among a soriely rilled the Sons of Libert)^, the object of which was 10 fut 



GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 51 

ther -the cause of American Independence. In 1775, after the battle of 
Concord, lie was given the command of the forces of Connecticut. He was 
at work in the field when he heard that he was wanted to resist the British 
invasion ; he left his plow standing and hurried to join the army. At the 
battle of Bunker Hill, which was one of the first battles of the Revolution 
and was fought just across the bay from Boston, he was the highest officer 
in command, although he oflfered that position to General Warren. 




BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 

He was next appointed by Congress a Major-General, and held com- 
mand of the troops at New York, and in August, 1776, at Brooklyn 
Heights, where he was defeated by the British General Howe. This did 
not discourage him, but he went right on as if nothing had happened, 
feeling sure that success would come later. 

He afterwards held various commands, and in 1777 was appointed 
to the defense of the Highlands of the Hudson. While at Peekskill a 



62 



GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 



lieutenant in a British regiment was captured as a spy and condemned to 
death. Sir Henry Clinton, a British commanding officer, sent a flag of 
truce to Putnam threatening vengeance if the sentence was carried out. 
Putnam wrote a brief reply that Sir Henry could understand without 
much trouble. I have it here and will read it : 

"Headquarters, 7th August, 1777. Edmund Palmer, an officer in 
the enemy's service, was taken as a spy lurking within our lines ; he has 
been tried as a spy, condemned as a spy, and shall be executed as a spy, 

and the flag is 
ordered to de- 
part immedi- 
ately. Israel 
Putnam. P.S. 
He has accord- 
ingly been ex 
ecuted." 

In 177^^ 
Piitnam made 
his famous es- 
cape from Gov- 
ernor Tryon's 
dragoon's in 
Western Con- 
necticut b}' 
riding down 
the stone steps 
BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. at a place call ■ 

ed Horseneck. You may have seen the picture of him riding down this 
steep place. Here he was as fortunate as usual, and escaped with his life. 
He died May 19th, 1790, having served his country nobly. 

QUESTIONS. 

Do you remember where and when Putnam was born? To what 
place did he move in early life ? What dangerous exploit did he perform 
and how did he escape from the cavern ? At what battle was he present 
-A ith the Connecticut regiment? In what way did he come near losing 
his life, and who saved him ? What part did he perform in the Revolu- 
tionary War? What was his last exploit when pursued by dragoons? 




HOW SAMMY HELPED GENERAL PUTNAM. 




AM going to tell you about a boy, said Uncle Frank, 
as he noticed the young folks seated to hear his next 
story. Bo3'S, you know, can do wonders, sometimes, 
as well as men and women. 

That's right, said James, I like to hear about 
boys. 

So do I, said Mabel, if they are not hateful boys, 
and are polite and gentlemanl}'. 

I see no reason, said Uncle Frank, why boys and 
girls should not treat one another politely and be on good terms. But I 
must tell you the story. 

Sammy Belnap was a strong young boy of nine when the soldiers of 
the Revolutionary Army came to the township of Redding, Connecticut, 
for the winter of 1778. " Old Put,"' as every one called the great fighter, 
General Israel Putnam, had been keeping the tavern over in Brooklyn 
before the war broke out, but when he came to the " Nutmeg " State, as a 
hardy pioneer, he had settled at Pomfret, and his farm had adjoined that 
of Sammy's grandfather, who had come from Danvers, Massachusetts, 
with him. 

The famous General was very fond of boys — boj-s who were brave 
and full of life. He had not forgotten that he was once one himself, and 
we have seen how brave he was when a young man. Sammy was just 
the kind of boy that the old General would like. He was full of life, and, 
alas, full of mischief So, when the General was riding through the little 
village of Redding one afternoon soon after the three camps of the Conti- 
nental soldiers had been established, he saw Sammy and inquired if tliere 
was not a son of Uriah Belnap living in the village. The General was 
taking the first few moments of his leasure in looking up his old friends. 
Sammy never forgot the expression of his great rosy face and smiling 
eyes when he answered : 

'• Why, yes, sir ; he was my grandfather, and Samuel Belnap, who 
lives over yonder, is my father." He was almost breathless, for he knew 

63 



54 HOW SAMMY HELPED GENERAL PUTNAM. 

the man on horseback, and he had heard a great deal about his bravery 
in the midst of these trying da)'s. But he was reassured at once, for the 
great big General came down from his horse, and, sitting on the curb, 
took him in his arms, and began to tell him about his grandfather. 

" I might have known j'ou were Uri Belnap's grandson, if I had 
looked t-n^ce," he said, " for 3'ou are for all the world just like him, and, 
I'll wager, he was just like j-ou at your age! Those are j'our grand- 
father's e3'es, and I can see his nose and his mouth in 3-ou, and do you 
know, m}'- son. I could sit here all the afternoon and tell 3-011 about 3-our 
grandfather ? He settled on the farm next mine, over 3-onder in Pomfret. 
What would I not g^ve for one hour of those old days ! And did he ever 
tell 3'ou about the wolf we hunted for so long ? " 

SAMMY LEADS GENERAL PUTNAM'S HORSE. 

Samm3^'s eyes lighted up with pleasure at this. He had hardh- 
known how to leceive the attention of his distinguished visitor, for he had 
heard much to make him fear him ; but he was entirel3- won over now. 
He had heard of that famous wolf hunt man3^ times from his grandfather, 
who had died in the Revolutionar3' cause, when he had gone with General 
Putnam to Bunker Hill, and had spilled his blood in that encounter with 
the British. 

" But 3'ou must take me to 3'our father, for I want to tell him how 
well your grandfather fought that da3' in Charlestown ; General Wash- 
ington has let me take my arm3^ near my old home for the winter, and it 
will be the first time since the da3- of that battle I have had to tell Uriah 
Belnap's son how his father fell in the foremost ranks, as fearless and 
brave as man should be in these da3-s — for these are tr3nng times, m3' 
son. Come, lead m3- horse up to 3-our home.'' 

The General sprang into the saddle, and Samm3' proudl3' led his 
guest to the house. When he had grown to manhood he was alwa3's 
delighted to tell of that episode in his life, and to another to which we 
shall soon allude. 

General Israel Putnam had three companies in the township of Red- 
ding that winter, and he was soon to take up his own quarters on Um- 
pawaug Hill. Historians are sometimes wont to attribute to him acts 
which seem brutal in these da3^s ; but we should remember the times in 
which he lived and the dangers of war, which tried him and other men 
most sorely. The traditions which are alive to-day in his old home at 



HOW SAMMY HELPED GENERAL PUTNAM. 



00 



Brooklyn, and in the surrounding towns, give us a picture of a kindly, 
gruff, hearty old man, who loved his friends and his friends' children, 
and after the war the most popular landlord in the Nutmeg State. 

And this is the man Sammy Belnap saw for the first time when he 
was nine years old — the man he learned to worship as all small, genuine 
boys worship heroes, for whom thej'' would sacrifice their lives, if need be. 

The Continental Army in General Putnam's charge contained many 
discontented and discouraged men that \\'inter. The}'^ were poorly clothed 
and poorly fed, and the Connecticut Legislature had not paid thern their 
wages for many months. If 3'ou should chance to go to Redding to-day 
you will see the places where these Revolutionary camps stood. The 
sites of the log cabins are clearly defined by heaps of stones, which are 
the remains of the chimne3-s built on the outside. Their pieservation has 
been due in a great degree to a forest, which grew over the spot where so 
many dramatic scenes took place more than a century ago. The forest 
has now been cleared, and the State of Connecticut has preserved the 
place in a park named for General Putnam. 

RIDES ON HORSEBACK WITH THE GENERAL. 

Our little hero of Revolutionary daj^s became greatly interested in 
the camps, and the General became so fond of him that he at times would 
raise him in"his saddle and make the round of the soldiers' quarters. 

" I am going to make you a good soldier like your grandfather," he 
used to sa}', " and I want you to learn all about my army, so that j^ou 
may be a general, too, some da}'. We little know when this war ma\- 
end, ni}' bo}'^, in these days of shadow, and if our time does not see the 
victor}' of liberty, we will train all little boys, so that when they are men 
they will be able to whip the British." 

Sammy's love for the General grew daily. He heard of the men who 
deserted to the camp of the British, and his little face burned with indig- 
nation to see the men who once fought for independence turning in their 
selfishness to what they thought would be the \vinning side. Often he 
would climb the rocky cliff, which rises to-day, as it did then, high above 
the camp, and watch the soldiers off parade walking about the barrack.'" 
and grounds, standing in groups, in their tattered and mud-stained uni 
rbrms. How his little heart burned in eagerness to do something fortlu 
cause of freedom ! He little dreamed that fate had destiued him to be Oi 
great service to the good old General, 



56 HOW SAMMY HELPED GENERAL PUTNAM. 

When spring came and the fresh green was everywhere and the birds 
began singing, there were not a few of the men who longed to be away 
from the scenes of war, and dreaded to face the hard fighting before them 
It was a frequent practice of these men to go to the camp of the enemy, 
where they were cordially received, and given good food and certain other 
things which they ought not to have had. As the camps of General Put- 
nam were soon to be broken, the deserter was especially welcome, as he 
might furnish valuable information as to the future movements of the army. 

"Old Put" was particularly tried by these deserters, and kept a 
sharp outlook for them. When captured they generally found their fate 
sealed by a brief court martial, whose verdict was either that they be shot 
or hanged. Sammy listened one evening to the account of a man who had 
sneaked away from camp a few days before and was believed to be skulk- 
ing about the place ; the General further suspected that he was in com- 
munication with the Tories, and feared that the movement he had planned 
for the next week would in this manner be known to the enemy. 

SAMM" THOUGHT HE KNEW THE MEN. 

Sammy listened win,, yide-open eyes, and that night he lay a \ 

long time thinking. His visits to the camp had been useful to hn.., . .• 
he knew many soldiers by name, and there were more whose faces he 
recalled. Now he vas quite sure he had seen the man in question the 
day before, while 1 , A-as gathering the spring flowers in a thicket of pines 
about 200 rods from the cliff below which was the camp. He had been 
engaged in earnest conversation with another person, whose face Sammj^ 
had not seen. In a few minutes after Sammy appeared the pair separated, 
but neither returned to the camp. 

Sammy thought this all over carefully, and went over it again and 
again, making certain plans which he intended to put into operatii'ii 
very soon. 

It happened that there was a cave near the top of the cliff, whicli ex- 
tended into the interior for several feet. There were a great man}' dry 
leaves on the bottom, and Sammy often went during the hot afternoons 
and sat and dreamed of being a soldier. The cave itself had a history, 
and was named after King Philip, because there is a tradition that the 
Indian King Philip had used it as a hiding place when closely pursued. 
If you should go there to-day you will find it just as has been described. 
The next day when the army was on the parade ground drilling, under the 



HOW SAMMY HELPED GENERAL PUTNAM. 57 

severe gaze of General Putnam, Sammy denied himself one of the greatest 
pleasures of his life, and hid himself in the cave. Here he could dimly 
hear the sound of the tramping feet, but he was_ within hearing of other 
sounds which finally came to his expectant ears. 

He heard what appeared to be two men engaged in earnest conversa- 
tion. Sammy listened closely until at last he could distinguish words. 
He listened for fully ten minutes, and, then, as silently as a field mouse, 
he left his perch in the cave on the cliff and slowly descended. All the 
time he could hear the voices of the men, but as he was below the top of 
the cliff he was, of course, not seen. 

When he reached the bottom he crawled carefully along, beneath the 
underbrush. How his heart beat, and how much he longed to run ! But 
he was too wise to do so for fear he would attract the notice of the men. 
So he moved slowly, until he was hidden by a thick growth o<" pines. 
Then he rose to his feet, and ran with all the speed his little legs were 
equal to. 

All this had taken ten minutes of precious time, although it takes 
hardly one to tell it, and Sammy was afraid he would be too late. He ran 
up to the General as fast as he could, stopped a moment and raised his arm 
in salute just like a real soldier, then clambered up into the saddle, and 
with his hands drew down the General's head and whispered in his ear. 

THEN CAME THE SOUND OF A MUSKET. 

The General quickly wheeled his horse and rode toward an officer. 
To Sammy's great delight, a small squad of soldiers soon moved in the 
direction of the cliff. How long the minutes seemed after that ! Every 
one was an hour to Sammy, and there were thirty of them before anything 
happened. Then the report of a musket sounded in the distance, followed 
by two more. All was silence for awhile, and the General sat eagerly 
watching the cliff with Sammy in the saddle. 

When the men appeared two of them bore a wounded man between 
them, while the others led a prisoner. Then the soldiers cheered and 
jeered. The two men had been surprised, for their pursuers had gone so 
silently that they were not heard until they had almost come upon them. 
Then one started to run and had been shot twice in the leg. The latter 
was a British spy and the other the deserter. The old General was 
greatly delighted. He raised Sammy to his feet on the saddle, and the 
soldiers raised their arms in salute, and then cheered the little hero. 



58 GENERAL GRANT. 

It was the proudest moment of Sammy's life ! That evening, as he 
sat with the General and his father around the great fireplace, " Old Put'' 
took him on his knee and said : " Your grandfather is proud of you to- 
night, my son, and hereafter I shall call 3'ou one of my soldiers !" 

QUESTIONS. , 

Who was Samm5''s grandfather? In what battle did he lose his life ; 
What did General Putnam tell a little boy about tht; courage of his grand- 
father? Where was General Putnam's army spending the winter? 
Were the soldiers on both the American and the British sides in the habit 
of deserting ? What did Sammy discover one day when he was visiting 
the camp ? When he found that two deserters were talking together, 
what did he do ? Did these two men escape or were they captured ? 



GENERAL GRANT 

THE HERO OF l^HE CIVIL WAR. 




HAT shall I tell you about to-day? said Uncle Frank. 
I would like to hear about General Graut, said 
James. And I would too, said Elsie. 

Everybody must honor General Grant, said Uncle 
Frank, for his great services to his country. He was 
a plain man, quite unknown when the w^ar broke out, 
but he had afterward a very brilliant career. 

When any man is wanted, said Mabel, to do any- 
thing, doesn't it always happen that the man comes ? 
It would seem so, said Uncle Frank, and General Grant's history helps 
to prove it. His people away back were Scotch, but had been in this country 
a great many years when Grant was born. This occurred at Point Pleas- 
ant, Clermont County, Ohio, April 27, 1822. His father's name was 
Jesse and his mother's maiden name was Hannah Simpson, and he was 
tlie eldest of six children. He helped his father on the farm in the 
summer and went to the village school during the winter. 

In the spring of 1839 he was sent to the Military Academy at West 
Point, 



GENERAt GRANT. 69 

What is a Military Academy, Uncle Frank ? said James. 

It is a military scliool, was Uncle Frank's reply — a school where 
young men are taught how to manage an array in case of war. Young 
Grant graduated in 1843, was made second lieutenant and sent away to 
do dnty in Missouri. In 1844 he went with his regiment to Louisiana, 
and in 1845 we find him in the army of General Taylor. This was dur 




POINT PLEASANT, OHIO, THE BIRTHPLACE OF GENERAL GRANT. 

ing the Mexican War — a war that we had with Mexico, as a result of 
which our country acquired Texas. Grant was at several battles under 
General Taylor — one of them being the battle of Monterey. Here he 
performed a very gallant exploit. Several times during the battle he 
showed very superior judgment, but his particular act of bravery was 
riding on horseback through a dangerous fire in search of ammunition for 
the regiment with which he was connected, and which, diiring the battle, 
had run short of it. He rode a spirited horse at great speed while shoi 



60 



GENERAL GRANT. 



and shell were falling all around Hm. Thus, you see, he showed even 

then that he was very brave. 

In 184S he obtained leave of absence, and in August of that year was 

married to Julia R. Dent, of St. Louis. Their children were three sons 

and one daughter. 
Lieutenant Grant 
served at various 
posts, and was made 
Captain in 1853 ; in 
the following year 
resigned his commis- 
sion and settled on a 
farm near St. Louis. 
When the Civil 
War began in April, 
1 86 1, Grant was re- 
siding in Galena, Il- 
linois. He at once 
offered his services 
to the Government, 
and in June was ap- 
pointed Colonel of 
the 2ist Regiment of 
Illinois Infantry, 
with which he was 
sent to Missouri. In 
August he was ad- 
vanced toabrigadier- 
eeneral of volunteers 
and given command 
of a district, and in 
November he fought 
the battle of Belmont. 
grant's boyhood days in OHiO. In Februar}^, 1862, 

he captured Fort Henry, and ten days later Fort Donelson, with 14,326 

prisoners, for which victory he was made major-general of volunteers. 

In April Grant fought a two-days' battle at Shiloh, amongst the 

severest of the war, in which General A. S. Johnston, commanding the 




GENERAL GRANT. 



61 



Confederate army, was killed. After various unsuccessful movements 
against Vicksburg lasting several months, Grant crossed the Mississippi 
in April, 1863, defeated the enemy at Port Gibson and at Champion Hill, 
and drove them behind their intrenchments at Vicksburg, to which place 
he laid siege. After many assaults the stronghold surrendered on July 
4, 1863, with 31,600 prisoners and 172 cannon, and the Mississippi was 
opened from its source to Its mouth. 

In October Grant was ordered to Chattanooga, where he fought a 




LIEUTENANT GRANT GOING FOR AMMUNITION AT MONTEREY. 

battle, capturing the enemy's entire line, and driving him out of Tennes- 
see. In March, 1864, Grant having previously been made a major-general 
in the regular army for his victory at Vicksburg, was promoted to the 
grade of lieutenant-general, and assigned to the command of all the armies 
of the United States, his headquarters being with the army of the Potomac. 
His plan of campaign Avas to gather all the national forces into several 
separate armies, which should march at once against the enemy. General 
Sherman, one of our country's greatest commanders, moved toward At- 
lanta, Ga., while Grant himself led the army of the Potomac against 
Richmond. 



62 



GENERAL GRANT. 



During the tiiglit of May 4 tie crossed tlie Rapidan, met General 
R. E. Lee, commanding the Confederates in the Wilderness, and fought 
a desperate three da}'s' battle, one of the fiercest of modern times. Grant 
moved forward on the 7th, and fought again at Spottsylvania Court-house 
on the loth, and still again on the 12th, on which occasion he captured 
an entire division of the Confederate army. The smoke of battle hung 
over the mighty hosts for six days, while the North remained in a state 
of suspense bordering on agony; but on the nth Grant wrote to Wash- 
ington, " I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer." 

So he kept on fighting, pushing ahead and daily getting nearer to 
Richmond, until after long and persevering effort he drove the army 

within the defen- 
ces of that cit}'. 
Meanwhile his 
great lieutenants, 
Sherman, Sheri- 
dan and Thomas, 
were reaping a 
harvest of laurels 
by winning suc- 
cessive battles. 

Late in March, 
1865, there began 
a week's hard 
fighting at the 
close of which Lee 
surrendered his 

whole army at Appomattox Court-house on April 9th, receiving from his 
victor most generous terms. The fall of Richmond ended the war, and 
Grant went back to Washington to muster out of service nearly a million 
of troops that the country no longer required. 

As many as that? said James. Wasn't that a great number of 
soldiers ? 

The world has hardly ever seen a larger army, said Uncle Frank. 
It was a terrible war, brothers fighting against brothers, good Americans 
on both sides trying to take the lives of one another. Grant was a great 
general. He makes me think of what the old colored man said was his 
idea of perseverance. " It's to take hold, hang on, and not let go." 




GRANT WRITING DESPATCHES BEFORE CROSSING THE RAPIDAN. 



GENERAIv GRANT. 



63 



Grant was just tHat kind of man. He never would give up until he had 
gained his object. And, children, I want you to remember that a large 
part of success in life consists in sticking; never backing out, never 
giving up, but, when you are sure you are right, just going ahead with 
all your might. 

Other generals may have been as skillful as Grant, but they did not 
know how to take hold, hang on, and not let go. His victories in the 
war of course made him very famous, and so it is not surprising that his 
party should nominate him for 
the Presidency. This occurred 
in May, 1868, and he was elected 
the following November by averj- 
large majority. After -he had 
been President for four years and 
had shown himself to be wise and 
skillful in managing the conn- 
try's affairs, he was elected the 
second time, so tliat he filled the 
ofl&ce of Chief Magistrate for 
eight years. Indeed it happened 
afterwards that in one of on-r 
national conventions over 300 of 
the delegates wanted Grant to be 
nominated for a third term, and 
they stuck to him until the con- 
vention closed. However, he did 
not get the nomination. 

After retiring from the 
Presidency, General Grant went abroad and was gone for two years. He 
nade a tour around the world. All the principal nations of the earth 
received him with great honor, and he was one of the most celebrated men 
of his time. When he got back he went to New York to live during the 
winters, while his summers were spent at his Long Branch cottage. 

Finding himself unable, with his income, to properly maintain his 
family, he became a partner in a banking house, in which one of his sons 
and others were interested, bearing the name of Grant & Ward, and put 
all the money he could spare in the business. He took no part himself 
in the affairs of the company, which were left almost entirely in the hands 




GENERAL GRANT, AS HE APPEARED AT 
THE CLOSE OF THE WAR. 



64 



GENERAL GRANT. 



of the young men. Suddenly the house suspended, and it was discovered 
that' through the infamy of one of the partners the General had been 
robbed of all he possessed. Up to this time he had refused to write any his- 
tory of his life, but finding himself bankrupt he began to write the story of 
Ill's life, trying thereby to make provision for the wants of his family. 

In the 
summer of 
1884 he 
c o m p 1 ain- 
edof a sore- 
ness in his 
throat, and 
finall}- it 
was decided 
tliat he had 
a cancer at 
the root of 
his tongue. 
The sym- 
pathies of 
the nation 
were now 
excited and 
Congress 
passed a 
bill creat- 
ing him a 
General on 
the retired 
list, thus 
restoring 
him to his 
rank in the 
army, the 
position he had resigned to accept the Presidency of the United States, 

It may be doubted if, since the world began, any other book has been 
written under similar circumstances ; the dying soldier, suffering con- 
stant, and, at times, the greatest agony, yet working away as if in perftC 




GENERAL GRANT MEETING THE EMPEROR OF JAPAN. 




MAJOR GENERAL H. W. LAWTON 




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THE FAMOUS CONFEDERATE COMMANDER 




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LIEUTENANT DEWEV SAVING THE LIFE OF A COMRADE 




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THE BALLOON USED IN MODERN WARFARE 




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eoPVRI MT, 1900, BY QE88FORD A VAN GRUNfc 



PROF. CHARLES E. TRIPLER 
HE IS TO LIQUID AIR WHAT EDISON IS TO ELECTRICITY. THIS NEW AND GREAT DISCOVERY •:, 
DESTINED TO REVOLUTIONIZE EVERYTHING PERTAINING TO THE SUPPLY OF MOTIVE PCWEP 
FOR TRANSPORTATION, MACHINERY, REFRIGERATION, MANUFACTURE OF POWERFUL EXPLOS 
IVES, Etc. the ABCVE ILLUSTRATION SHOWS A HAMMER OF FROZEN MERCURY. 




SCENE iji. bOARD A SCHOOLSHl P-CADETS CHEERING 
THE LIFE-BOAT 



GENERAL LAWTON. 



65 



tiealtli. He struggled on from day to day, and finished his book only 
four days before bis death, which occurred near Saratoga, N. Y., July 
23d, 1885. His remains were interred on August 8th, with great pomp, 
in Riverside Park, New York City, overlooking the Hudson, and there c 
monument, costing a vast sum of money, has been built to his memory. 
Many Lives of Grant have been written, the most valuable of which 
IS the one he wrote himself, which netted his family half a million dollars. 

QUESTIONS. 

Where and when was Grant born ? What was his father's Christian 
name and his mother's maiden name ? Where Avas he educated ? Where 
did he begin his service in the army ? In what war was he first engaged ? 
How did he distinguish himself at the battle of Monterey ? Whom did 
he marry? What was his first battle in the Civil War? What forts did 
he capture ? What great stronghold did he take on the Mississippi ? 
What other battles did he fight ? When was he made Commander-in-chief 
uf the armies of the United States ? Give an account of his battles before 
Richmond, and the surrender of General Lee. How many times vvas he 
President ? How did he lose his money ? What about the book he wrote ? 



iOk 



GENEEAL LAWTON 

THE HERO OF THE PHILIPPINES. 




VERY30DY likes a hero, said Uncle Frank, as he 
seated himself and motioned the young folks to his 
side. What is a hero, Mabel ? 

A man who does some brave deed, said Mabel. 
That's right, said Uncle Frank, and General 
Lawton was such a man. T think you will be int^ r- 
ested in what I have to tell you about him. 

All the story-tellers go back to that first great 
work of his which brought him into national fame. 

This was his chasing and capturing the outlaw Apache chief, Gero- 
nirao. General Miles said no one in the East that has not been in the 
far West can realize what tramping for 1600 miles in that region means. 
And General Lawton tramped for 1600 mile? ' 



66 GENERAL I.AWTON 

General Miles gave him one order. He said, " Keep Geronimo 
moving. Don't give him time to murder people." This was quite 
enough for young Lieutenant Lawton. He was never known to disobe}; 
an order, to ask for it to be made easier, or to give an excuse if he didn't 
csrry it out. So he kept the Indian chief moving. He tracked him ovci 
mountains and through ravines so dark that he and his little company 
had to grope with their hands. He went without food, was barefoot and 
was ill, but he never stopped. 

FORCED MARCHES UNDER GREAT DIFFICULTIES. 

He changed his men as Napoleon changed his horses, from one 
station to another, but he himself never faltered. Some of the days he- 
was ill and had to be carried in a wagon, but he never let them slaken 
their speed for his headaches. With vHe fever on him he would get up 
and make forced marches that would hxve been almost impossible to a 
well man. After weeks of this dramatic and tremendoiis hunt, the 
Apache was cornered. He was as gaunt and hungry as the man who had 
followed him. He was not used to being so pursued bj' any American. 
There was not a day when he had been able to stop and rob a town or 
murder a family. He felt always the never-ceasing, regular march of the 
young lieutenant behind him. 

Think of going through 1600 miles of the Western bad lands in such 
a fashion ! The man who could do that could do anything, was the ver- 
dict of the army. His judgment in handling the Indians after he had 
compelled GeroniuT^ to surrender to General Miles was as excellent as 
his ability to fight. He was in charge of them from Albuquerque to Fort 
Marion, in Florida. He had wonderful control over them, and they both 
feared and respected him, a respect that no other white man inspired. 

'' I never saw. a man who had such remarkable power over other men 
— and especially his inferiors — as Lawton," said one arm}- officer who had 
been with him through the Apache campaign. " Many of us used to 
wonder what he did and try, if possible, to do likewise. But the ma'^ had 
a genius not to be imitated for commanding other men. 

" I remember when he was regimental commissary ; that is, a man 
who provides food for the soldiers, which in those days of Indian fighting 
was the hardest position to fill in the army, that he said to a teamster 
who was carrying supplies to the troops across the plains : ' You meet 
me at 9 o'clock on Tuesday morning at a certain spot on the plains,' 



GENERAL LAWTON 67 

" The teamster looked at liim as if hardly comprehending that the 
man was in earnest, but Lawtou looked him squarely in the eyes and 
repeated the order. He told the teamster he knew the march would be 
terrific, but he could do it and he had to do it. 

" There wasn't another commissary in the army who would have 
made that order and expected it to be obeyed, but on the hour appointed 
the teamster met Lieutenant Lawton at exactly that spot on the plains. 
' I knew as sure as there was a heaven,' said the teamster, ' that if Lieu- 
tenant Lawton said he was going to be there, he would be there. If he 
aad been killed on the way his ghost would have been there. I would 
fi-ive met him if I had had to get out and pull the wagon myself. Every- 
one of us said hard things of him every foot of the wa}', but somehow or 
other we kept on going.' " 

Very few people in the army know that General Lawton saddled his 
horse every day, even during the time he was major general. 

ALWAYS TOOK CARE OF HIS OWN HORSE. 

He never let anyone else touch his horse. When he was in Cuba, 
during our war with Spain, he would have the animal brought to the 
back door of his tent where no one could see him, and would put him into 
harness there. He did it as stealthily as if he were committing a crime. 
He knew the dignity of his position demanded otherwise, but he simply 
coiildn't give up saddling his pet. 

First he would smooth the back of the horse down as if it were a 
child's head. He would run his hand over the hair to see that none of it 
went the wrong way. He would fold the blanket as carefully as a maid 
does a ball gown. Every rumple was smoothed out, every inequalit}' 
equalized. He would try the saddle and mould it into the blanket until 
he was satisfied as to its position. 

When he fastened the girth he would draw it in as tenderly and 
strongly as a master does his bow across the violin. He could have 
broken every rib in that horse's side with his great strength had he 
wanted. After he had fitted the bit to its mouth he would slip away into 
the tent and stay there for fifteen minutes until the horse had shaken 
itself into the fit of the harness and gotten comfortable. His orderly 
would bring the horse around to the front door and the General would 
walk out and get into t^"^ saddle as if he had never seen the horse since 
sunset. 



88 GENERAt, LAWTON. 

General Lawton, like many reserved men, had a great amount of 
emotion stored up in liis giant frame. He coulcl never read or refer to an 
act of field bravery without choking up. He never allowed himself to 
speak of things that touched him deeply unless to very intimate friends^ 
for this reason. The tears were as quick to his eyes as the fire of com- 
mand. 

General Breckenridge says he will never forget the day that young 
Manly Lawton lay at the point of death. He was the General's onlj' son. 
All day long he walked his room, and, finally, crying like a child, b}' the 
General's side, said: " If that boy dies, I want to die." This love for his 
little son was one of the great passions of his life. The boy was named 
Manly for his mother's family, as she was a Miss Manly, of Louisville, Ky. 

THE BOY WAS FEARLESS UNDER FIRE. 

Mrs. Lawton, the boy and the three girls were out in Manila for some 
time. One day the youngster was on the gunboat Petrel with his father 
when the boat was under fire. The next day the conversation turned on 
the horrors of warfare, when one man said : " General, you should thank 
God you haven't a son out here in this army." 

"Why do you say such a thing as that?" demanded the General, 
hotly. " Do you think my boy will ever stay out of the army ? Did you 
see him under fire the other day ? He stood it like a man, sir I But it's 
what I expected of him." 

While events in the Philippines in our war with the insurgents were 
proceeding favorably for an early close of the rebellion a very sad circum- 
stance occurred. General Lawton with a small force was advancing to 
disperse the rebels and occupy the position held by them at San Mateo 
some seventeen miles northeast of Manila. He_was standing erect in 
front of his men while bullets were falling thickly near to him. One of 
his staff warned him of the danger of exposing himself, he only smiled, so 
fearless was he. In another moment he was hit by a bullet which \''.'as 
winged with death. 

General Lawton fell as a soldier in the thick of the fight, and *hus 
his career was ended. This brave American officer was highly es' iemed 
by all who knew him. The services he rendered his country were great, 
and for these he will be long held in honor. In his 5'-outh he served with 
distinction in the Civil War. He gained fresh laurels from his Indian 
fighting in the Southwest, where he finally defeated Geronimo's band. 



DANIEL BOONE. 69 

When the war with Spain broke out his services were again wanted and 
he did excellent work in Cuba. 

It was felt b}' the authorities at the war office that he would be a good 
man to send to the PhilipiDines. His experience, personal bravery and 
endurance were freely exercised throughout the campaign, and near its 
successful close he laid down his life while fighting the battles of his 
country. The nation mourned the loss of one of its bravest defenders. 

The people of the United States contributed one hundred thousand 
dollars to provide a permanent home for his mdow and her children. 

What a lovely thing that was to do, said Mabel. 

No more than they ought to do, said James, for a great man who 
gives his life for his country. I quite agree with you, said Uncle Frank. 

QUESTIONS. 

What is a hero ? Who is the hero here described ? How did he first 
become known ? What can you tell about his fighting the Indians in the 
South-west ? Tell me the story about one of his teamsters. How did he 
treat his horse ? What did he say about his horse ? Where and how was 
he killed ? 



DANIEL BOOITE 

AND LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 



^ NCLE FRANK and his little friends were rambling 
y'^ through the woods. Coming to the bank of a cool 
brook, the}^ sat down in the shade and began to talk 
about the time when our whole country was a wilder- 
ness. 

A great many privations fell to the lot of the 
earl}^ settlers, said Uncle Frank. 

Who was Daniel Boone ? asked James. Was he 
an early settler? 

Yes, was Uncle Frank's reply, and now that you have mentioned 
him, I will tell you his history. 

At the time of the French and Indian War — about twenty years be- 
fore the Revolution — the country that now forms the State of Kentucky 




70 



DANIEL BOONE 




THE FAMOUS DANIEL BOONE. 

learned about the huntiug-grounds of the Indians, he 



was a wooded wil- 
derness, used by 
the Indians only 
for hunting. 

" Kan-tuck- 
kee " thej^ called 
it, meaning the 
dark and bloody 
g-.ound. Soon 
after the close or 
the war — in 1763 
— afew bold white 
hunters crossed 
the mountains 
thatguarded it on 
the east, and be- 
gan to explore its 
great resources 
Among them was 
Daniel Boone. 
He was a native 
of Pennsylvania, 
thougb he had 
lived in North 
Carolina since he 
was eighteen 
years old. He 
was a grown man 
by this time, with 
a family and quite 
a good reputation 
throughout the 
country for his 
intelligence and 
many adventures. 
Much interested 
in the little he 
made up a party 



DANIEIv BOONE. 71 

after a few years, to explore its wilds. It was a most discouraging trial. 
Boone himself, and his brother who joined them later, were the only ones 
who escaped from the Indians. 

Alone they passed the winter in the vast forest, savage beasts and 
savage men their only neighbors. In the spring the brother went home 
for supplies, and Daniel spent the three solitary months in the little hut 
and its grand and beautiful surroundings, until the brother returned with 
horses, food, and powder. Then they went on their explorations until 
early in the next spring. The wonders of beauty and richness they found 
can scarcely be imagined even in the fair Kentucky of today. Then it 
was perfectly fresh, unworn, unmarred by man in any way, and much of 
it still shrouded in delightful m3'Stery. Thoroughly charmed with the 
region, the brothers resolved now to go to North Carolina, get their fami- 
lies, and return with them to the new country and there make their home. 

PARTY OF FORTY TRAVELLING THROUGH THE WILDERNESS. 

It was two years before they could make all the necessary arrange- 
ments. But at last they were ready and off. Five other families had 
joined them, and it was a happy party of forty that set their faces north- 
westward to find under the leadership of Boone a new home in a fair, 
rich country beyond the mountains. Wives and children were fixed to 
ride as comfortable as possible ; clothes and cooking-utensils were carried 
by pack-horses, and a herd of swine and cattle were driven before. For 
some time they went along without any serious mishap. 

But suddenly the pleasant expectation of the travelers was turned 
into fear and confusion. A party of Indians fell upon the rear of the line 
and killed a number of the company, among them Boone's youngest son. 
This put a stop to their progress, and instead of pushing further into the 
territory of the savages, they turned aside and settled in Virginia. But 
Boone was yet to found a settlement in Kentucky. 

The Government, having heard of the fine lands across the moun- 
tains, proposed to give portions of it to the Virginia heroes of the French 
and Indian War. It was necessary, therefore, to have these lands sur- 
veyed, and who was so able to help in the work as Boone, who had already 
spent two years in exploring them ? He willingly undertook the work, 
and when it was done the governor appointed him to lead a force of col- 
onists against some Indians who were disturbing the settlers on the Vir- 
ginia frontier along the Ohio. After successfully routing the trouble- 



72 DANIEL BOONE. 

some savages, lie returned to his family and found tliat the little company 
had recovered from their fright about the Indians and were anxious to go 
on to Kentucky. 

Another company was also formed in North Carolina to assist in 
making settlements, and Boone was chosen general manager and surveyor 
for the whole party. After a time, they again set out for the West. On 
reaching the Kentucky River they received another attack from the 
Indians and again a few of their number were killed. But this time they 
kept on, and when in April, 1775, the patriots in Massachusetts were 
engaged in the battle of Lexington, the pioneers in Kentucky were build- 
ing a fort and founding the settlement of Boonesborough. Here the 
women and children were brovight, and home life among white people 
began in Kentucky. Boone's wife and daughter were the first white 
women, it is said, that ever stood upon the banks of the Kentucky River- 

BOONE CAPURED BY THE INDIANS. 

The fort was a sure protection against the Indians as long as the set- 
tlers kept within it ; but to venture out was dangerous. The Indians were 
always prowling about, watching all that went on, and sometimes captur- 
ing those who went beyond its protection. But Boone had great skill in 
dealing with the red men, and usually recovered the captives, and also 
made his own escape when — as it happened once or twice — he was himself 
taken. 

He was in many respects a wonderful man. He had a clear and 
well-balanced mind, and was able to do successfully whatever he under- 
took. Without knowing anything about politics, he kept up a settlement 
on the frontier, and without having any military knowledge, he was one 
"f the worst foes the Indians ever met with. An author who loved noble 
traits in men once said of Boone : He was seldom taken by surprise, never 
shrunk from danger, nor failed beneath exposure or fatigue ; he knew 
nothing of engineering as a science, yet he laid out the first road through 
the wilderness of Kentucky and established the first fort there. He had 
few books and read little, but he thought a great deal, and was in his way 
a talented man of calm and even mind. He was plain and unpoetical, 
with wonderful love for the beauties of nature. 

His simple, retiring manners never altered into rustic rudeness ; and, 

jDld and unsparing as he was in warfare, he was fair and kind to all crea- 

'T^ — a thoroughly humane man. His wants were no greater than his 



DANIEL BOONE. 78 

rifle and the wild woods could supply, while the constant danger in which 
he lived for many years • made him only careful, not uneasy and suspi- 
cious. Robust, compactly knit in figure, honest, intelligent, and kind, he 
excelled as a sportsman, and won the respect of his savage captors by his 
skill and bravery. More than once, without violence, he freed himself 
from their imprisonment, revealing their bloody schemes to his country- 
uen. and meetinsf them on the battlefield with a coolness and swiftness 
hat awoke their admiration as much as their astonishment. 

Again and again he saw his companions fall before their tomahawks 
and rifles ; his daughter he rescued from the red men's camp, to which she 
had been carried from his very door ; his son fell before his eyes in a con- 
flict with the Indians who opposed their immigration to Kentucky ; his 
brother and his dearest friends were victims either to their strategy or 
violence ; his own escape from death at their hands was due more than 
once to the influence he had obtained over them by tact and patience, and 
to his sure, swift action when the chance came to flee from them. 

GALLANT DEFENSE OF THE FORT AGAINST THE SAVAGES. 

Once when Boone was a prisoner in the Indians' camp — captured 
while gathering salt near the fort — the chief came to like him so well that 
he adopted him to take the place of his lost son. His only course was to 
appear satisfied, but he was keenly on the watch for all the movements of 
the red men, and finally learned that they were planning an attack upon 
Boonesborough. He swiftly resolved to escape, and warn the settlement 
of the danger. In a short time he managed to get away, and, traveling a 
hundred and sixty miles in five days, he astonished his friends by appear- 
ing among them long after they had lost all hope of his being alive, and 
his wife and children had gone mournfully back to their old home in 
North Carolina. The fort was quickly prepared for an attack from the 
Indians, who soon came, four hundred and fifty strong, against a little 
band of seventy. After nine days of fighting the Indians gave up and left 
the fort still in the hands of Boone and his colony. 

When all was safe he went after his family and brought them back 
' ^ Boonesborough in 1780. Here he remained for twelve years, engaged 
in improving and enlarging the settlement and occasionally turning out 
against the hostile Indians, who succeeded now and then in capturing 
some beloved member of the colony, but were for the most part kept well 
at bay. 



74 DANIEL BOONE. 

The fair lands of Kentucky began after awhile to be in great 
demand. Those who owned the rich acres could sell them at a high 
price, and some of the early settlers were now rewarded in wealth for the 
hardships they had endured. Boone, being one of the first and greatest 
of these, supposed that he owned quite a good deal of the land he had dis- 
covered, explored, and colonized. But sharp men found out that his 
papers were not legal, and that he could not hold his land. 

MISFORTUNES OF BOONE IN HIS OLD AGE. 

Hardy and heroic as he was, he was also too modest and diflBdent to 
be able to quarrel about what was justly his, so in his old age he left Ken- 
tucky to those more bold for wealth and less high-principled than himself 
and retreated into the wild regions of Missouri, which had not yet been 
invaded by those who followed the sturdy settlers to reap the benefit of 
their pioneering. Tliere he received a grant of land from Spain, but lost 
it also through a mistake in the title papers. 

After this second misfortune he wrote a simple, touching letter to the 
people of Kentuck}?, asking them to help him to get a clear title to at 
least part of his lands, sa3-iug, " I have no place to call my own, whereon 
to lay my bones;" and as in those days it was one of a man's first duties 
to set aside and prepare a burial ground for himself and his familj-, the 
people were greatly touched. The State begged ten thousand acres or 
more of Congress, and the gift was granted ; but the lawyers Avho came in 
between the giver and the receiver cheated the heroic old man out of even 
this, and he "who had helped to conquer an empire died landless at last." 
But his memory was not without honor. 

On an autumn day, some years ago, a hearse, garlanded with ever- 
greens, was slowly drawn by white horses through the main street of 
Frankfort, Kentucky. It was the second funeral of Daniel Boone. His 
remains lay in the cherry-wood coffin he had polished himself in the rude 
and lonely cabin on the banks of the Missouri, and they were then being 
removed by the State, to the public cemetery of the capital of Kentucky. 
People said it was but just that these ceremonies of love and respect 
should be paid to the memory of the noble and cheated old pioneer, who 
first explored their fair State, when the elk and buffalo held undisputed 
possession with the Indian ; when its dark forests were the contested 
boundary between the Cherokees, Creeks, and Catawbas, of the South ; 
and the Swanees, Delawares, and Wyandottes, of the North ; and the deep 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



T6 



glades of the forest primeval were stained with the warrior blood of the red 
savages. 

Diiiiiel Boone was bom in Bucks Ci anty, PennsJ'^lvania, 1735. He 
died iu Missouri, in 1820 or 1822. 

QUESTIONS. 

In what period of our country's history did Daniel Boone live ? 
What part of the country did he explore? While he and his party were 
traveling by whom were they attacked ? What appointment did Daniel 
Boone receive from our government ? Who were the first white women 
that ever stood on the banks of the Kentucky River ? What was Daniel 
Boone's appearance ? Describe his being captured by the Indians. How 
did he lose his property ? Where was he born and when did he die ? 



*■■>» 



BENJAMI]^ FRANKLIN 

THE NOBLE PATRIOT. 




NCLE FRANK had been waiting for his yoxmg friends 
some minutes before they arrived. Always be on 
time, he said, as they came out hurriedly to the seats 
waiting for them on the porch. Perhaps you have 
some excuse, he said, for being late this morning. 

None at all, said Mabel, as she turned her frank, 
rouud face toward ^Jncle Frank. We were playing 
and forgot ourselves. 

You should always be punctual, was the reply. 
I might have told you when I was speaking of Washington about a secre- 
tary of his who got into the habit of being a few minutes late every day, 
and always excused himself by saying his watch was slow. One day 
Washington gave him a stern look and said, " Either you will have to get 
a new watch, or I will have to get a new secretary." The young man 
took the hint and after that was on time. 

I want to tell you to-day, continued Uricle Frank, of that great man 
and noble patriot, Benjamin Franklin. He was born in Boston, January 
17, 1706. He was the youngest of seventeen children, and was intended 
for his father's business, which was that of a soap-boiler and tallow- 



76 



BENJAMIN FRANKWN. 



cBandler, but being disgusted with this employment, lie was apprenticed 
to his brother, who was a printer. This occupation was more congenial 
to his taste, and he used to devote his nights to the perusal of such books 
as his scant}' means enabled him to buy. 

By living on a vegetable diet, which was cheap, he obtained more 
money for buying books, and at sixteen had read works which Avere usu- 
ally read b}' much older persons. Having displeased his father and 
brother, he determined to give up his engagement with his brother, and 
leave Boston. This he accomplished, arrived at New York, walked thence 

to Philadelphia, and entered the city 
of Friends with some articles of 
dress in his pockets, a dollar in 
cash, and a loaf of bread under his 
arm. 

Here he obtained employment 
as a printer, and Sir William Keith, 
the governor, observing his dili- 
gence, persuaded him to go to Bug- 
land, to purchase materials for a 
press, on his own account. This 
was in 1725, but he found he was 
the bearer of no letters that would 
aid him, and he was accordingly 
obliged to work at his trade. He 
returned to Philadelphia, where, 
in a short time, he entered into 
FRANKLIN'S BIRTHPLACE. busiucss with oue Meredith, and 

about 1728, began a newspaper in which he inserted many of his moral 
essays, and advice about saving money. 

He published Poor Ricbard's Almanac which is well known. It has 
a great many wise and pithy sayings, that has always been regarded as 
excellent advice for everybod\'. At the age of twenty-seven, he began the 
study of modern and classical languages. 

He founded the Universit}' of Pennsylvania and the American Philo- 
sophical Society, and inventel the " Franklin stove," which held a place 
for a long time among the variety of modern inventions of a similar kind. 
In 1746 he made his experiments on electricity and applied his discoverier 
to tke invention of the lightning rod. 




BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



7T 



The story is told of him that he went into the fields on the outskirts 
of Philadelphia during a thunder storm, sent up a kite that had a wire 
attached to it, and in this way drew lightning from the clouds. This led 
him to conclude that safety could be obtained during thunder storms by 
having lightning rods. These would be good conductors for the elec- 
tricity, which in that 
case would not make a 
conductor of a person 
that was near, thereby 
destroying life. 

In 1 75 1 Franklin 
was appointed deputy 
postmaster general for 
the colonies. After the 
defeat of General Brad- 
dock, which was men- 
tioned when I told you 
about Washington, a 
provincial militia was 
established and Frank- 
lin was chosen colonel. 
In 1757 he was sent to 
England with a petition 
to the king and council 
against the property 
owners Avho refused to 
bear a share in the pub- 
lic expenses. While 
thus employed he pub- 
lished several works 
which, gained him a high reputation. In 1762 Franklin was chosen fellow 
of the Royal Society, and made doctor of laws at Oxford, which were very 
high honors, and the same year returned to America. 

Tin 1764 ke was again sent to England as agent of his province, and 
in 1766 was examined before the House of Commons on the subject of the 
stamp-act, which was a tax that the Americans disliked very much. His 
answers were clear and firm. His conduct in England was worthy of his 
previous character. Finding him warmly attached to the colonies, abuse 




FRANKLIN AT THE AGE OF TWENTY. 



78 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



and coarse satire were leveled against him, but his truthfulness and match- 
less Avit formed a complete defence. He was next offered " anj^ reward, 
honors and money beyond his expectations," if he would forsake his 
country, but he stood firm as a rock. 

^ He returned to America in 1775. The battle of Lexington had taken 
place while he was at sea, and the whole country was now filled with 
excitement. The day after he landed, on the 6th of May, 1775, he was 
made a delegate to the Continental Congress, and was there put on the 
famous committee of five, with Jefferson, John Adams, Roger Sherman, 
and Robert R. Livingston, to prepare the Declaration of Independence, 

and after it was adopted and written 
on parchment, he, Avith the fifty-six 
other honored patriots, risked life, 
land, and all against the power and 
wrath of Great Britain in signing it. 

Franklin was a statesman, not a 
soldier, and his work during the Revo- 
lutionary War was to draft the first 
plan of government, called the Articles 
of Confederation ; to help enlist sol- 
diers to defend his State, Pennsylva- 
nia; to take up all the different duties 
and cares of the first Postmaster-Gen- 
eral ; to visit Washington's camp and 
consult with the Commander-in-Chief 
upon ways and means ; to go to Can- 
"^da to see if the people there would join with the Colonies ; and to labor 
Jevotedly for his country's cause on committees of the greatest importance 
?-nd in the conventions that controlled the public actions of the people. 

When, before the close of the second year of the war, it became neces- 
sary for us to have a helping friend in some great foreign power, it was 
the wise and venerable Dr. Franklin who was sent to France. Although 
he was then in his seventieth year, he was still one of the shrewdest and 
best agents that ever managed the affairs of any country. He at once 
became a great favorite in Paris. People were charmed with his simple 
ways and quaint manners, for he pretended to be nothing more than a 
plain American, and he was famous over Europe for learning, statesman- 
ihip, discoveries in science, inventions, and wisdom about common things. 




franklin's printing press. 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



7f 



In a short time lie completely won over the favor of the French 
people to the American side, but for a long while the government would 
not agree to do anything for us, because France did not want to bring on 
a war with Great Britain by uniting openly with the American Colonies, 
although she had 
given us secret aid 
from the first. But 
we needed more than 
that ; we wanted a 
firm and open friend, 
and so, while Dr. 
Franklin was allow- 
ing himself to be the 
pet of French so- 
ciety, while he was 
making the acquain- 
tance of the greatest 
people of the capital, 
and also interesting 
every one by his own 
part in these things, 
lie was still more 
earnestly trying to 
briugabout an agree- 
ment with the gov- 
ernment. 

After about a 
year of toilsome busi- 
ness that taxed all 
his resources as well 
as his good temper, 
the object was se- 
cured, the treaty was maae, and a fleet of sixteen war-vessels under Count 
D'Estaing, and an army of four thousand men were sent to America in 
the summer of 1778. Franklin was now able to buy vessels, which were 
made into American cruisers. The next year he helped to fit out a fleet 
of vessels, which were sent out from France under command of John Paul 
Jones, the story of whose gallant life I will tell you later. 




FRANKLIN AT THK AGE OF SEVENTY. 



80 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



x^y 



The agreements in this treaty were most favorable to the United 
States, and it has often been said that we owe our independence to it. 
But it did not secure rest or even smooth sailing for our old and busy 
statesman. During the remainder of the war, he stayed on at Paris, 
devoting himself to all the difficult and perplexing foreign affairs that fill 
the pages of those years of our history. They were 
of all kinds — civil, military, and naval, and kept Frank- 
^^■^\ lin constantly at work ; " smoothing, aiding, contriving, 
and assisting by word and b}^ pen, always 
wise, always to the point, he steered the bark 
^ ' of his country to the desired haven." 

His wit and humor rendered his 
societ}^ acceptable to every clas.s. 
On one occasion he was dining 
with the English am- 
bassador, and a French 
officer at Paris. The 
former rose, and gave 
the following senti- 
ment : " England — the 
bright S2tfi whose ra5's 
illuminate the world ! " 
The French gentleman, 
struggling between pa- 
triotism and politeness, 
proposed : " France — 
the )!WOfi Avhose mild 
beams dispel the shades 
of night." Dr. Frank- 
lin, rising in turn, said : 
"General George Wasli 
ington — the Joshui; 
who commanded the sun 
and moon to stand still 
— and they obeyed him 1" Do you not think this was a good rejoinder. 
When Franklin had passed awa}? and the story of his life was fully 
told, it was then known what a really great man he was. Beside his 
statesmanship, which was so able in small things and great, that the sue- 




franklin's grave, fifth and arch streets, 
philadelphia. 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 81 

■iess of the Revolution was very largely due to him, he was a great phil- 
osopher and scholar, a public benefactor, and a practical inventor and 
workman. He showed his countrymen how to think and write ; he pub- 
lished some American newspapers, and the famous "Poor Richard's 
Almanac." This was announced as being edited by Richard Saunders, 
of Philomath, and printed and published by Benjamin Franklin, of Phila- 
delphia. From the year 1732 it was issued yearly for a quarter of a cen- 
tury. It had a place in almost every household in the land, not only on 
account of the information it contained, but also for its shrewd and 
worldly-wise maxims, which were afterward gathered into a pamphlet 
called "The Way to Wealth," and, being translated into many languages, 
loner ago became a part of the world's stock of wise proverbs. 

YOUNG MEN SEEKING TO IMPROVE THEMSELVES. 

Soon after he returned to Philadelphia — after his short first stay in 
England — he began to make himself felt for good in the city, although, he 
was then but a young printer, just of age. He gathered his friends 
together into a social and literary club, called the Junto. It was a small 
circle of clerks, joiners, and shoemakers, who, with Franklin for their 
leader, met to improve themselves, help mankind, their country, their 
triends, and each other. Everything about it was carried on with the 
same simplicity and common-sense that always marked its founder in 
whatever he did. Although its influence was soon felt far and wide by 
branch clubs, it was never enlarged, and even its existence was kept a 
secret. It lasted for forty years, and out of it grew the American Philo- 
sophical Society, while the small collection of books, owned in common by 
its members, was the beginning of the great Philadelphia Library — " The 
mother of all the North American subscription libraries." 

Perhaps the highest praise that was ever given to this great and good 
man was spoken by Lord Chatham, in 1775, when he said that this man 
from America was " one whom all Europe holds in high estimation for his 
knowledge and wisdom, who is an honor not to the English nation only, 
but to human nature.'' 

The greatness of his mind and character was due chiefly to his own 
efforts. His parents had a larger family than they could easily support, 
and Benjamin, as we have seen, was put to work in his father's soap fac- 
tory in Boston when he was ten years old ; but he shows in the story of 
his life written by himself, how he educated and supported himself at the 
6 



82 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

same time, and by living according to strict rules of work, study, temper 
ance, and honor, gradually raised himself to a higli place among the 
greatest, most useful men of his own or any other time. 

He died in Philadelphia on the 17th of April, 1790, and was buried in 
the churchyard at Fifth and Arch streets in that city. 

QUESTIONS. 

Where was Benjamin Franklin born and when ? What was his 
father's business ? What trade did Franklin learn ? Where did he go 
from Boston ? How did he draw lightning from the clouds ? Why was 
he sent by our government to England ? What great services did he ren- 
der to America ? What was Franklin's business ? Give an illustration 
of his wit and humor. Tell me something about Poor Richard's Alma- 
nac. When did Franklin die and where was he buried ? ^ 



JOHI^ PAUL JONES 

THE FAMOUS NATAL HEEO. 



P YOU like to hear tales about the sea and sailors ? asked 
Uncle Frank. 

I do, said James.; the others can speak for them- 
selves. 

Elsie and Mabel were much interested, they 
said, in important events on sea or land which gave 
them a knowledge of American history. 

Listen, then, said Uncle Frank, to what I have 
to tell you. The greatest naval hero of the Revolu- 
tion was John Paul Jones, a Scotchman, who first came to America when 
he was an apprentice-boy, on an errand for his master, a great English 
tobacco merchant. He was only John Paul then, for the Jones was added 
to his name in later years. 

At the age of twelve he had been sent to Whitehaven, in England, 
which is just across the Sol way Firth or bay from his native place. 
There he was apprenticed to a merchant who had a large trade with 
America. He was a bright bo}^, fond of his books, and one that could be 




JOHN PAUL JONES. 



88 



trusted, so the next year, when the merchant sent a ship to Virginia for 
a cargo of tobacco, John Paul went aloug, for he had a brother in tnat 
State. He was much pleased with the new country, but still more so with 
his voyage. Life at sea seemed so delightful to him that he began to 
study navigation at once, that is, how to manage a ship ; and when, soon 
after his return to England, his master's business failed, he was glad to 
be released from his apprenticeship so that he could become a kailor. 

His studies had fitted 
him to take a good place in 
the merchant service, and 
he soon had an offer to ship 
in the slave trade, which 
was one of the most flour- 
ishing branches of English 
commerce at that time. So 
arrangements were made, 
and the day came when the 
ship King George set sail 
from Whitehaven with 
John Paul for third mate. 
The ship went to Africa 
and returned, and when 
Paul next went to sea — 
which was very soon — it 
was as chief mate of the 
Two Friends. He was now 
nineteen years old, and car- 
ried his cargo of human 
beings safely to the island 
of Jamaica, where the ves- 
sel belonged. But as soon 
as his duty was fulfilled J°^^ ^*^ J°N^ 

he gave up the ship. He declared he would never again have anything 
to do with the slave trade, and took passage for home in the first ship 
bound for Great Britain. 

Yellow fever broke out during the voyage. Captain, mate, and all 
the chief officers died, leaving the brig in the middle of the Atlantic with- 
out a man of the crew able to guide its course. The young passeugei 




84 JOHN PAUI< JONES. 

took command, and the men soon saw that, though he wag, but twenty 
3'ears of age, he was a thorough sailor, and all obeyed and respected him 
as their regular chief. He brought the vessel safely to her port, which 
vas near his owu home, and the company rewarded him b}' making him 
her captain. 

During his first regular voyage in this brig, a false report was raised 
that he killed the carpenter, whom he had had to flog for neglecting his 
duty, but who died of a fever some time after landing at the West Indies, 
This was so much talked about, and so great a time made over Captain 
Paul's " cruelties," that he left Scotland for good in 1771. After serving 
in England's West India trade for awhile, he came to Virginia, where his 
brother had left him heir to a goodly estate. The country which had dis- 
trusted and slandered him he would claim no longer. Hereafter he would 
be an American. He would not even bear the old name, but would be 
John Paul Jones in future. 

HE HOISTED THE AMERICAN FLAG. 

In a couple of years the Revolutionary War broke out, and the first 
of the lieutenants appointed in the new navy was John Paul Jones. He 
was placed on board of the frigate Alfred, the first vessel, it is said, over 
which the American flag ever floated. It was Lieutenant Jones himself 
who first hoisted the yellow sheet when the commodore came to the fleet, 
and displayed to Commander Hopkins the coiled rattlesnake and the 
motto " Don't tread on me." This was a flag that was in use before we 
had the Stars and Stripes. 

Jones was afterward promoted to be commander of the Providence. 
In this vessel, during a cruise of six weeks, he captured sixteen prizes. 
He was then made one of the regular captains in the young navy of the 
United States, and ordered to start out on board the Ranger for a two or 
three months' cruise against the craft of England. At that time our 
whole navy numbered only a few vessels, while England had over a thou- 
sand. It needed a great deal of skill to keep out of the way of their heav}^ 
men-of-war, and still more to watch them and make unexpected attacks on 
them at just the right moment. But Jones was as keen and alert as an 
enemy as he was able as a seaman. He took many English merchant and 
trading vessels, and even dro\'e son:e fishing-vessels away from their 
grounds at Cape Breton. 

After this the English concluded that the Ranger needed .ooking 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 85 

after, so they fitted out and sent oflf the Drake, a larger vessel than 
Jones's, with almost twice as many guns. Her orders were to capture the 
Ranger. The two vessels met just off the southeastern coast of Scotland, 
in April of 1778, and after an hour of quick, sharp, and spirited fighting, 
the Drake, instead of the Ranger, was the captured craft. Captain Jones 
carried his prize to the coast of France and sent the Ranger home to 
America. 

The news of this victory was a surprise to every one and a very 
unpleasant one to England. They had before felt notlung but disdain for 
the weak little navy of the " American Colonies," but now they learned 
that it was not as harmless as it was young and small. 

HE PAYS A VISIT TO THE KING. 

For five mouths after the capture of the Drake Joues was kept waiting 
in France for a vessel. While people were talking over and praising his 
naval skill he was without money or employment in a foreign country. 
Congress was too poor to fit out another vessel, or even to send him the 
money he needed to keep himself and crew from want. About this time 
Benjamin Franklin succeeded in getting the French Government to 
openly become our ally, and Jones looked to them for a vessel and sup- 
plies. 

While he was watching and waiting for a reply to some of the 
numerous letters he had uritten to the court, he one da^- came across a 
copy of "Poor Richard's Almanac," in which he found one of Franklin's 
wise sayings that applied exactly to his own case. It was, " If you want 
3'our business well done, go and do it yourself" Jones resolved to act on 
this stray bit of advice, and went at once to the king. His honor and 
fame from the Ranger's exploits were enough to admit him to the court, 
where he could command respect and attention Ijy his presence as well as 
his renown. He had made himself well educated and cultivated by adding 
industry to his genius, and although his figure was neither large, robust, 
nor more than medium tall, it was active and vigorous. His weathei 
beaten face had keen black eyes that lightened a certain melancholy grace 
which softened his compact and determined-looking features. 

He soon interested the king in his desire to raise a fleet and again 
meet America's enemies on the sea. Arrangements that had already bee^i 
begun were now soon completed, and a squadron of French and American 
vessels was placed under the command of Jones, who named the old India- 



86 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

man, which fell to his lot, the Bon Homme Richard. That meant Good 
Man Richard, in English, and was in honor of Benjamin Franklin, the 
almanac-maker and distinguished American minister to France. 

When at last the squadron was ready, the Bon Homme Richard and 
her four companion vessels set sail from France in the middle of August, 
1779, the fourth year of the war. It was a poor fleet, manned by a motley 
crew of more foreigners than Americans and some under-ofl&cers that were 
not fit for their posts. But it seemed as if no disadvantages could cause 
Commander Jones to fail. After a month's cruising he had captured and 
destroj^ed twenty-six of the enemy's vessels. 

One day in the latter part of September, near the end of his course 
around the British Isles, the Bon Homme Richard, the Pallas, and the 
Alliance suddenly fell in with the British fleet, off" Flamborough Head. 
The fleet was protected by two British cruisers, the Countess of Scar- 
borough and the Serapis. The last was a fine new frigate, carrying 
fort}'-four guns and manned by a picked crew. She was larger and far 
stancher than any of Jones's vessels, but the commander was not daunted 
and preoared the Bon Homme to give her battle. 

HIS FAMOUS VICTORY ON THE SEA. 

The engagement took place on a smooth sea and in the Cklm moon- 
light of the night of September 23d, a date that will always be remem- 
bered, for this was one of the most remarkable naval battles ever fought. 
In everything except the valor and genius of her commander, the Serapis 
had the advantage, for although Captain Pearson was a brave and able 
man, he had his superior in John Paul Jones. The Bon Homme had two 
guns burst at the outset, killing a number of men, and in the thick of the 
fight, for some unknown reason, her own comrade, the Alliance, under 
the zealous Frenchman Landais, fired upon her again and again, while 
the Serapis was pouring volley upon volley into her rotten timbers 
from the other side. After awhile Captain Pearson called out, " Has your 
ship struck ? " to which Jones flung back the answer, " I have not yet 
begun to fight." Then he helped to lash the jib-stay of the Serapis to 
the mizzen-mast of the Richard, and the deadly fire was thicker than 
ever, hand to hand and muzzle to muzzle. 

The Serapis had a full battery against three guns on the Richard's 
deck, but the Richard's tops were filled with sailors who, armed with 
muskets and hand grenades, swept the Englishman's boards, and finally set 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 87 

fire to a quantity of cartridges which exploded with as much damage to 
the Serapis as the Richard received when her guns burst at the beginning 
of the battle. 

Then there came a cry that the Richard's hull had been broken in 
and the vessel was sinking. A hundred English prisoners rushed up 
from below, but before they had a chance to leap upou the deck of the 
Serapis, Jones, cool and commauding, ordered them to the pumps. They 
were prisoners of war, honor-bound to obey him, and so they saved the 
vessel from sinking till the Serapis struck her colors — both vessels then 
on fire. Unseaworthy to start with, the Bon Homme could not be saved ; 
she was left the next morning and soon sank to the bottom. Meanwhile 
the Pallas, which had a better officer than the Alliance, captured the 
Countess of Scarborough, so the American victory was complete. 

HE CAPTURES SILVER TREASURES. 

Jones was absent from home for about three years, during which 
time his exploits were numerous and of the most astonishing character. 
He was denounced as a pirate by the English, who became so alarmed by 
his achievements that many people did not feel safe even in London. 
Some of the timid ones looked out on the Thames, half expecting to see 
the terrible fellow lay their city under tribute. At one time he landed on 
the coast of Scotland, and, appearing at the residence of the Earl of Sel- 
kirk, captured a large amount of silver plate and booty. But he treated 
the Earl's household with great courtesy, and the plate that was seized at 
the time is now in the possession of the members of the Selkirk family. 

Paul Jones returned to Philadelphia February i8, 1781, and received 
a hearty welcome. Congress gave him an appropriate medal and a vote 
of thanks. 

While on a visit to France about five years later, he received an invi- 
tation to join the Russian Navy with the rank of a rear admiral. He 
accepted this upon condition that he should remain an American citizen 
and should never be asked to fight against France. 

He was now forty years of age and a famous hero. The Russian 
officers felt jealous of his great name and the favor he had in their service, 
and finally succeeded in carrying false reports of him to the Czarina — the 
great Queen Catharine — and getting him retired. When he left the 
service he was promised a handsome pension, which he never received ; 
and the man who had commanded the attention and admiration of the 




PAm. JONES SEIZING THE SILVER PLATE OF I,APY SELKIRK 



CYRUS FIELD. 



89 



world died in poverty and neglect at Paris, while a commission from the 
Jnited States to make a treaty with the Dey of Algiers was on its way 
to him. 

John Paul Jones was bom at Arbigland, Scotland, on the 6th of July, 
1747. He died in Paris, France, July 18, 1792. 

QUESTIONS. 

Who was the greatest naval hero of the Revoluticn ? Where^was he 
born ? Why did he come to America ? Of what ship was he chief mate ? 
When yellow fever broke out on the ship when he was a passenger what 
did he do? Why did he add Jones to his name? What British ship did 
he first capture ? When did he obtain a fleet ? What was the name oi 
bis ship ? What was the result of his great battle with the British fleet ? 
What reply did he make when the British captain asked if his ship had 
struck ? Whose silver plate did he capture and what became of it ? 



ij«% 



CYEUS FIELD 

AND THE ATLANTIC CABLE. 



HE telegraph is a wonderful thing, said Mabel, as the 
young people gathered about Uucle Frank to heai 
another story. 

Very true, said Uncle Frank, and I think the 

most wonderful thing about it is the electric cable that 

lies at the bottom of the sea and enables people in 

our own country to send messages to others in Europe. 

Please tell us about the laying of the cable, said 

Elsie, and Uncle Frank readily consented. 

The great invention of the telegraph, he said, by Professor Morse, 

had but half its present value and usefulness until Cyrus West Field 

carried it across the Atlantic Ocean and united the two continents by its 

magic wire. 

He was a retired merchant about thirty-five years of age, when he 
first became interested in a water or marine telegraph. Some enterprising 
men had tried to stretcli a wire across the island of Newfoundland, the most 




90 CYRUS FIELD. 

easterly point on the American coast, and to have this connect with a line 
of fast steamers, which, it was thought, could reach the nearest point in 
Ireland in five days. In this way news could be carried from one conti- 
nent to the other inside of a week. An attempt had alread}' been made 
to build the line, but it had failed, and now it was wanted that some rich 
men would take hold of it and carry it through. 

Mr. Field was well known as an able, enterprising, and wealthy man, 
who had built up a large business in New York from the smallest kind of 
a beginning. He was strongly urged to take hold of this scheme, which, 
if well carried out, would be of great benefit to the counlrv and a paying 
success. He agreed to think about it, and sat in his librar}' turning over 
a globe and considering, when the thought suddenly came to him, " Why 
not carry the line across the ocean ? " The more he thought of it the 
surer he felt that this should be his undertaking. 

LAYING THE FIRST CABLE. 

The next year he obtained from the Legislature of Newfoundland 
the sole right for fifty years of landing telegraph cables on the island 
from both Europe and America. He formed a stock company at once, 
and in a couple of years organized the " Atlantic Telegraph Company " 
in London, furnishing one-fourth of the capital himself The govern- 
ments of Great Britain and the United States provided ships, and the first 
expedition to lay the wire set out in 1857. This and another in the next 
year both proved failures. Then some time passed, and a third trial was 
made, which succeeded in laying a cable. But this gave out in about a 
month. 

Eleven years had now passed, and still the Atlantic telegraph was 
only a scheme. Many of the stockholders were discouraged, and Mr. 
Field and his ocean cable was ridiculed by the people and the press of 
Europe and America. But he never lost faith in the enterprise, though 
its money and friends were fast growing less. 

In 1865, a cable having been constructed and made as nearly perfect 
as possible by the use of the best materials, the steamship Great Eastern, 
freighted with it, sailed from Valentia, Ireland, on the 23d of July. On 
the second day after starting from the Irish coast, a fault in the cable was 
detected ; a tiny piece of loose iron wire had forced its way through the 
outer covering of the rubber surrounding the electric wire, so as to come 
in contact with the latter ; and when this piece was cut out and a ncy; 



CYRUS FIELD. 



91 



splice made, tte fault was effectually cured. The cable had again to be 
raised and examined in the same way when the ship was six hundred and 
thirty-six miles from Valentia, and one thousand and twenty-eight miles 
from Newfoundland. 

The machinery was slowly pulling the cable in out of the water 
when, to the surprise of everybody on board, it suddenly parted, thirty feet 
from the bow of the ship, and with one bound leaped, as it were, into the sea. 
For a moment dismay seized those on board. They were startled at the 
thought that the cable had parted and dropped into the sea. Nothing 
was to be done but to 
adj ust the grappling 
machinery and search 
for the lost treasure. At 
first the iron sank but 
slowly, but soon the 
picking-up machinery 
lowered length after 
length over cog-wheel 
and drum, till the iron 
wires, warming with 
work, heated at last so 
as to convert the water 
thrown upon the ma- 
chinery into clouds of 
steam. Still the rope 
descended, and the great 
strain was diminished, 
when at fifteen thousand 
feet the grapnel reached 
the bed of the Atlantic ; and as the ship drifted across the course of the 
cable, there was just a surmise that the grapnel might catch it. 

In the search from August 3d to August nth the cable was grappled 
three times ; it was lifted each time a considerable way from the bottom, 
but the grapnel, ropes, and lifting machinery v/ere not sufficient to bring 
it to the surface. Nearly twelve hundred miles of the cable now lay 
along the bed of the Atlantic Ocean ; one end attached to the shore at 
Valentia, the other submerged under fifteen thousand feet of water, aiiP 
i*esting on a soft, oozy bottom. 




SUDDEN BREAK OF CABLE OX THE GREAT EASTERN 



92 CYRUS FIELD. 

A length of fifty-five hundred miles of cable altogether had been 
made for this great Atlantic enterprise from 1857 to 1865, and nearly four 
thousand miles had been swallowed up in the ocean ; a million and a 
quarter had been sunk ; but the grand hopes were not crushed. The 
various telegraphic companies interested in the completion of the under- 
caking wisely concluded to resume operations forthwith. 

The storms of twelve months had passed over the cable before tlic 
preparations were complete; that it had not drifted was thoroughly 
believed. The naval commanders had made accurate observation of tlif 
exact latitude and longitude of the spot where the cud of the cable finally 
disappeared in August, 1865 ; and, as the same instruments, applied in 
the same way, would find the same spot again, this was the test, and the 
only test relied on. The Great Eastern arrived on the 12th of August at 
the cable-fishing ground. The grapnel was put fortli ; the strain indi- 
cated that it had got hold of the cable ; it was hauled in ; an lo ! up came 
to sight the actual cable itself! 

Every one on board the ship crowded to the bow to see the grapnel 
come up over the water. The lost cable of 1865, lifted from its ooz}' bed 
two miles beneath the surface of the Atlantic Ocean, now made its appear- 
ance, attached to the flukes of the grapnel, amid a spontaneous cheer. 

SWUNG HIS HAT WITH A LOUD CHEER. 

The cable was found to be in good condition. There it was--tha 
copper in the middle, then the rubber, then the iron wires and then the 
outer covering of Manilla hemp. The problem to be solved was, whether 
the cable, after being twelve months at the bottom of the Atlantic, would 
transmit an electric message to Valentia. An operator applied the end of 
the cable to his delicate instruments, amid the breathless silence of those 
around him. He took off his hat and gave a cheer — the cable spoke ! 

The Great Eastern, safely making her way to Newfoundland, landed 
the western end of the ocean wire. The tests were made again and again, 
with perfect success. The great value of the work was acknov/ledged in 
both countries. Several of the English gentlemen who had given their 
money and influence in helping along the work were honored with 
knighthood, and in America the greatest honors were bestowed upon Mr. 
Field. Congress gave him the thanks of the nation, a gold medal, and 
other testimonials, showing that they looked upon his work as one of the 
greatest ar-hievements; of the century. The French Exposition, which was 



BETSY ROSS. 98 

held after the cable had stood the test of about a j^ear's service, gave him 
its grand medal. This was its highest award and was only given to those 
who had proved themselves great public benefactors. The thirteen years 
of labor amid discouragements and ridicule brought him full reward. 

Mr. Field was born at Stockbridge, Massachusetts, on the 30th of 
November, 1S19, and died July 26th, 1892. 

QUESTIONS. 

Who first thought of laying the Atlantic cable ? What had been 
Cyrus W. Field's business ? What can you say of the first attempts to 
laj^ an ocean cable ? What happened to the last cable on board the Great 
Eastern ? How was this cable found and x-aised from the bottom of the 
sea ? How many years was Mr. Field occupied before the undertaking 
was a success ? When was lie born and what was the date of his death ? 



BETSY EOSS 

AND OUR AMERICAN FLAG. 



AMES came out on the porch waving a flag, then hold- 
ing it agginst his side marched up and down, while 
Uncle Frank and the two girls looked on in admira- 
tion. 

James must be a young patriot, said Uncle 
Frank. A patriot, you know, is one who loves his 
country. 

How did we get the flag ? asked Elsie, and what 
does it mean ? 

I am glad you asked that question, Uncle Frank 
replied, for I would like much to tell you about it. James took his seat 
and laid aside the Stars and Stripes for the time being, 

The first flag with its present design, that is, with the stars and 
stripes, was made in 1777 by Betsy Ross. Betsy was bom in Philadel- 
phia, Pa., January ist, 1752. She was the sixth daughter of Samuel and 
Rebecca Griscom. Her parents were members of the Society of Friends. 
Her father was a noted builder, having assisted in the erection of Inde 




94 BETSY ROSS. 

pendence Hall. Betsy was a bright girl, and grew to be a beautiful 
woman, noted for ber amiable and lady-like manner. Skillful with tbe 
needle, sbe was fond of embroidery and other kinds of fanc}- work. 
Among her many admirers was John Ross, a young man who, though 
poor, was possessed of such qualities as made him worthy of Betsy 
Griscom. His uncle was the Hon. George Ross, the signer of the Decla- 
ration of Independence. Young Ross was an upholsterer. One day he 
noticed the young women in his employ were puzzled over some work. 
He told them he knew a young woman who could arrange it. They sent 
for her. Her mother consented to let her learn the business. Thus 
Betsy became an upholsterer. 

In December, 1773, John and Bets)^ were married. For marrying 
" out of meeting " the Friends disowned her. Her husband being an 

Episcopalian, she attended Christ Church with him, 
occupying a pew near that in Avhich General Wash- 
ington worshipped^ The 3'oung couple soon em- 
barked in the upholstery business, moving into the 
house 239 Arch street. Here from an injury received 
while guarding military stores, John Ross died in 
January, 1776. The young widow heroicalh'- deter- 
mined to continue the business alone. 

"The star-spangled banner, ,^ , . ^ „ , 

long may it wave, When Washington wanted a sample Hag made, 

O'er the land of the free Betsy Ross was recommended by Hon. George Ross. ' 
an e ome o e rave. Washington was visiting John Hancock who was 
suffering " a severe fit of the gout," and accordingly could not accompany 
his distinguished guest. Directed by Colonel Ross a short walk brought 
Washington and Morris to the upholstery shop. Imagine Betsy's sur- 
prise at the entrance of General Washington and Robert Morris. Her 
uncle pleasantl}^ explained the purpose of their visit. As they wished to 
avoid being noticed, she invited them into her little back parlor. They 
asked her if she could make a flag. She replied : '' I don't know, but I 
will try." 

Washington then drew from his pocket a small paper with a hurried 
pencil sketch, showing the outlines of a flag of thirteen stripes with a 
field dotted with thirteen stars. Thirteen, perhaps j^ou remember, was 
the number of States at this time in the Union. Bets}^ notices that the 
stars as drawn by Washington had six points and suggested that they 
should have only five. He admitted that she was correct but he pre- 




BETSY ROSS. 95 

ferred a stai that would not be an exact copy of his coat-of-arms. He 
supposed a six-pointed star could be more easily made. Betsy replied 
" nothing was easier if one only knew how," and quickly folding a piece 
of paper, with otie clip of her scissors displayed a perfectly formed five- 
pointed star. This point was then yielded in her favor and the design 
redrawn. She was left to make the sample flag according to her own 
ideas of proportion. It was soon completed, accepted by the committee 
and adopted by Congress June 14th, 1777. 

BETSY ROSS MADE THE GOVERNMENT FLAGS. 

Afterward, Congress drew an order on the treasury to pay Betsy 
Ross seventy-three dollars for flags for the fleet in the Delaware river. 
She soon received the contract to make all the government flags, and held 
it many years, her daughter, Mrs. Clarissa Wilson continuing the busi- 
ness until 1857. Betsy Ross was married three times, her second husband 
was Captain Ashburn, and her third John Claypole. Thus the history 
of our flag can be traced right back to its birth by the descendants of 
Betsy Ross, now living in Philadelphia, 

Says a great writer : " Every color means liberty ; every thread means 
liberty ; every form of star and beam or stripe of light means liberty. It 
is not a painted rag." 

The colors of the dear old flag, said Elsie, are red, white and blue. 
What do they mean ? 

I will tell you, said Uncle Frank. Red means love ; some persons 
say it means divine love, that is, the love of God. It is the language of 
bravery and the emblem of war. Red was the field color of England's flag 
and the colonial army flag. Red denotes daring and defiance ; and it also 
tells of the blood our forefathers shed for their rights. This meaning 
appears in the crimson stripes of the flag. White means truth and hope. 
It is the language of purity and the emblem of peace. 

Blue means loyalty, sincerity, justice. Blue was the color of the 
Covenanter's banner, of Scotland, adopted by them in opposition to the 
scarlet of the royalty ; its choice is based on Numbers xv. 38: "Speak 
imto the children of Israel, and bid them that they make them fringes in 
borders of their garments, throughout their generations, and that they 
put upon the fringes of the borders a ribband of blue." Other nations, 
to be sure, had previously used these, colors, but never in ,surh a beautiful 
lesign as " Old Glory." 



96 BETSY ROSS. 

Our flag, my young friends, is ijot a borrowed one. We did not get 
it from any other country. Its babyhood bore some resemblance to its 
English cousins ; but that was because it was a baby. It is really unlike 
any other flag. 

The house in which the first flag was made is two stories high to the 
eaves, has a steep, shingled roof and a dormer window. Massive build- 
ings tower around it. Built in 1682 with bricks which came ovei in bal- 
last in the hold of the ship Welcome, mortared in under the supervision 
of William Penn himself, it is a connecting link between the great 
founder and the mighty city which he founded. The property is now in 
possession of the " American Flag House and Betsy Ross Memorial Asso- 
ciation," which has undertaken to purchase it, and turn it over to the 
National Government, together with a considerable sum of money to 
insure its being kept in repair. 

Mr. A. N. Whitmarsh, said Uncle Frank, has told the story of the 
flag in verse, and here it is. I will read it to you : 

OUR FIRST FLAG. 
Tune : Yankee Doodle. 

When Uncle Sam his first flag made 

To wave for freedom's cause, sir, 
He called upon a gentle dame 

Whose name was Betsy Ross, sir, 
She showed the stripes to Washington, 

Composed of red and white, sir. 
Clipped thirteen stars out one by one 

For States that did unite, sir. 

Three great men watched her as she wrought 

Our nation's emblem new, sir ; 
Inspired by her skill and thought 

Its folds in beauty grew, sir. 
She deftly blent its rosy light 

With blue from Heaven's dome, sir. 
Then circled it with stars of night 

To show 'twas Freedom's home, sir I 

Each patriot his approval showed 

With dignity and grace, sir. 
Their gratitude for gifts bestowed 

Smiled forth from every face, sir. 



THOMAS A. EDISON. 



97 



Said Morris then to Waslaington, 

" That is the very thing, sir I 
Twill make the red coats turn and run, 

And scare old George, the King, sir." 

Then Betsy neatly wrapped the flag 

And gave it the committee ; 
She told them not to let it drag 

As they walked through the city. 
We'll never let it touch the earth, 

Nor soil its matchless beauty, 
For flag of such a noble birth 

Shall keep us true to duty 1 

QUESTIONS. 

Who gave the design for the Stars and Stripes ? Who made the first 
flag ? Where did Betsy Ross live ? Tell me about Washington visiting 
her to get the flag made. What is the meaning of the colors on the flag? 
Describe the house in which Betsy Ross lived and tell me what is to be 
•^one with it? 

^% 

THOMAS A. EDISON 

THE OELEBEATED INVEISTTOE. 



",ID you ever talk through a telephone? asked Uncle 
U Frank. 

I tried it once, said James, but the fellow at the 
other end only laughed at me. I suppose it was be- 
cause I wasn't used to it, and did not know how to 
talk. 

Do you think the telephone is any more won- 
derful than the phonograph? Mabel asked. That 
instrument will repeat everything you say. 
Be seated, said Uncle Frank, and I will tell you of Mr. Edison who 
made so many marvellous discoveries in electricity. It has been said: 
' He is the most remarkable inventor who ever lived. The lesson of his 
life is found in the fact that he has proved that invention is an art and 
not a happy guessing, — that discovery is a wise search, not a drifting in 

7 




98 



THOMAS A. EDISON. 



the fogs of ignorance. His life is tlie greatest incentive to our young 
people to be found in modern history. It teaches to work, it points out 
the new path, very laborious, but ending in success." 

The first time that Mr. Bdison became widely known was in about 
1870. He had failed in making one of his inventions work, and came to 
New York to do something, he scarcely knew what. One day he hap- 
pened to be in the office of the Gold Indicator Company when their elec- 
trical machinery gave out. It was in the midst of some excitement, and 

when Edison 
offered to fix 
it the brokers 
f e 1 1 desper- 
ate enough to 
let him try, 
al t h on gh 
they did not 
believe he 
could do any 
good. But he 
succeeded in 
making the 
instrument 
work, and so 




TALKING BY TELEPHONE. 



delighted the 



man agers 
with his appearance that they made him superintendent of the company. 

He was soon famous as a successful inventor; but he was not so 
successful in manufacturing these instruments and his other inventions, 
for which there was soon a large demand. It is said if he had an order 
for any of his inventions, and, after having made a part or all of them, he 
invented an improvement, he would always add it, even though at his own 
expense. After a time he gave up the great factory at Newark, New 
Jersey, and freed himself of its cares for the sake of invention. 

Mr. Edison's chief interest has always been in the telegraph; it 
began when he was a lad selling papers on the Grand Trunk Railway. 
One of the great privileges of his life was the gift of lessons in operating 
the telegraph from a man whose little child he had saved from being run 
over by a train. But even before this he had a small, home-made tele 



THOMAS A. EDISON. 



99 



^raph of small wire. The wire was wound with rags, while the boyish 
operator tried in vain to supply the electricity by rubbing the cat's back. 
He was a clever, enterprising little fellow even then, and although he 
had scarcely eight w^eks of schooling altogether, he had a great thirst 
for knowledge. He read books on chemistry, science, and in fact took 
out almost all the important volumes in the Detroit public library before 
tie was fifteen years old. At this age he lost his mother, who had given 



-■--^^^:^--y-':}fxirrff:s^~zJ^-^S£:^^ 




MR. EDISON TALKING INTO THE PHONOGRAPH. 

great interest and care to his love of learning; and about that time he 
became a newsboy on the trains of the Grand Trunk Railroad that ran in 
and out of Detroit. 

This business had two attractions for him : the money he earned by 
it, and the chances it gave to see a great many books and papers. Mean- 
while he kept up his interest in chemistry, experimenting in a corner of 
an empty car. But this came to a sudden end by the explosion of some 

chemicals, setting fire to the car and putting the train in danger. 

L.ofC. ■ "- 



too THOMAS A. EDISON. 

A little while after lie undertook something entirely dififeient; he 
got a small lot of type and a little sheet called the " Grand Trunk Herald" 
made its appearance on the train. It was soon after this that the grateful 
station-master offered to teach him telegraphy. Night after night for 
several months, when his long day's work was over, he returned to hL 
friend's station and took his lesson. He learned rapidly, and was soon 
able to get employment as an operator. Gradually he worked up until 
he had a position in Boston, one of the most important in the country. 

HIS WONDERFUL QUADRUPLEX MACHINE, 

Besides his regular duties he nearly always managed to have a little 
shop for experiments in chemistry ; sometimes this gave dissatisfaction 
to his employers, but in Boston his experiments brought him more money 
than his position, so he gave it up to try the duplex or double telegraph. 
This succeeded finally, although it failed for a time and made the in- 
ventor feel pretty down-hearted as he took his way from Rochester to 
New York; but affairs soon brightened, for the fixing of the stock indi- 
cator opened the way for a series of the greatest inventions of this cen- 
tury. Among his chief works are the perfecting of a cheap and service- 
able electric light, and the inventions of the quadruplex telegraphy and 
the electric pen. By means of the quadruplex telegraphy, four messages 
may be sent at the same time over the same wire, in opposite directions. 
The electric pen, for multiplying copies of letters or drawings, is made up 
of a tube-shaped pen in which a needle, driven by electricity, works in a 
motion like that of a sewing-machine needle, and pricks the lines drawn 
with it, so that the sheet may be afterward inked and used in a press, 
when the ink, passing through the tiny holes, leaves a finely-dotted 
tracing like the original on another sheet. 

But of all Mr. Edison's inventions, there are probably none so won- 
derful and of so great fame as the telephone and the phonograph. 

Mr. Edison was born at Milan, Ohio, February ii, 1847. 

QUESTIONS. 

What does Mr. Edison's life teach you ? How did he first become 
known in New York ? Who gave him lessons in operating the telegraph, 
and how did he come to do it ? Describe his thirst for knowledge ? Where 
did he make experiments in chemistry? What happened to the car? 
What famous instruments has he invented ? Where and when was he bom ? 



EGBERT E. LEE 



THE GREAT CONFEDERATE COMMANDER 




N old fort near where Uncle Frank lived was a place of 
resort, and recalled the stirring times of the Revolu- 
tion. One day when he and the young folks were 
visiting this place he began to tell them of the war of 
Independence. Then he passed to the Civil War, 
and, as they all sat down on the warm ground to- 
gether, he said, I am going to tell you to-day of the 
great Confederate commander. 
That was Robert E. Lee, was it not ? asked James. 
Yes, said Uncle Frank, and he was a remarkable man. He gradu- 
ated from our Military Academy at West Point, on the Hudson, where he 
stood at the head of his class. He finished there when twenty years old 
and was appointed lieutenant in a corps of engineers. 

For several years his work was establishing boundary lines and im- 
proving harbors and fortresses in various parts of the country, and when 
the Mexican War broke out he was made captain of the engineering corps 
of the army, under General Scott. His courage was equal to his skill, 
and, heedless of bullets and shells, he took columns to their places as 
calmly as he planned defences and superintended the works. Once, whe'.n 
he was wounded at Chapultepec, he kept on carrying orders until he 
fainted from the effects of his wounds. His gallant service so distin- 
guished him among his comrades that General Scott made a personal 
friend of him and the Government promoted him three times, so that he 
held the rank of colonel at the close of the war. 

It is said that the day after the taking of Mexico, while the officers 
were having a good time over their wine, some one proposed the health of 
Lee, the brave captain of the engineers, who had found the way for them 
into the city. On looking around they found that he was not among 
them. Some one was sent to fetch him and found him at last hard at work 
over a map, which he could not be persuaded to leave. Duty before 
pleasure was always his motto. 

101 



102 



ROBERT E. LEE. 



Four years after the close of ttie Mexican War lie was made Super 
intendent of the Military Academy at West Point. Here lie remained 
three years and then was made lieutenant-colonel of a regiment bound for 
Texas. His rank was next to that of the commanding officer of the regi- 
ment, Albert Sydney Johnston. After remaining two years in Texas he 
obtained leave of absence to return to his home in Virginia. His wife, 
who was the daughter of General Washington's adopted son, George 
Washington Parke Curtis, had inherited the Washington estate on the 
Potomac, and Lee now spent two quiet years at home. 

Meanwhile trouble was brewing in the country. Difference of in- 
terest and opinion between the 
North and the South were fast 
leading to blows. Virginia soon 
agreed with the other Southern 
States to leave the Union and 
with them fight for " States' 
Rights." lyce was obliged either 
to take up arms against his na- 
tive State or' resign his position 
in the Union Army. It was far 
from his wishes to do either, but 
he decided to cleave to his State 
and sent in his resignation. In 
writing to General Scott he said 
that he hoped he would never 
have to draw his sword again, 
but if he did it would be in de- 
fense of his native State, since 
he could not make war upon her. 
General Scott and other distinguished friends urged him to remain 
with the Union. It is said that even President Lincoln offered him a 
high position in the army ; but he refused all requests, although he knew 
that if he joined the Southern Army there would be many to rank above 
him. He was opposed to the Southern States separating from the Union. 
He thought it was bad policy ; he said that if he owned a million slaves 
he would gladly give them to the Union, but his State had decided and he 
must follow its lead. 

Soon the terrible conflict began. Lee was at first appointed major- 




GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE. 



ROBERT E. LEE. 103 

general of the forces of Virginia, but was soon promoted to tlie third place 
among the five leading generals of the Southern army. 

He had no very important station during all of the first year, being 
employed chiefly to look after the coast defences of South Carolina and 
Georgia. But in June, 1862, he took command of the army to defend 
Richmond, and succeeded in beating back the Northern army under the 
command of McClellan. He rose to chief command through the death or 
failure of higher officers, and he was not long in power before he proved 
himself worthy of his post. 

SURPRISING MILITARY ACHIEVEMENTS. 

" In the short space of two months," says one of the leading Confed- 
erate Generals, " with a force at no time over seventy-five thousand, he 
defeated in repeated engagements two Federal armies, each of which was 
not less than one hundred and twenty thousand strong, relieved the 
Southern capital from danger, and even threatened that of the North. 
Then, throwing his army into Maryland, he swept down on Harper's 
Ferry and captured it with its garrison of eleven thousand men and 
seventy -two guns." 

After this came the battle of Fredericksburg and more brilliant move- 
ments by Lee. Then Grant came up to cope with him, backed by all the 
splendid forces of the North, while Lee had all his army in the field. For 
nine months this unequal contest was kept up and the enemy held at bay 
— almost entirely, says one of Lee's companions, " by the genius of this 
one man, aided by the valor of his little force, occupying a stretch of over 
thirty miles and spread out so thin that it was scarcely more than a re- 
spectable skirmish line." 

The want and sufferings of the Southern soldiers during these last 
few months of the war were fully equal to those of Washington's men 
during the Revolution. Shoeless, hatless, ragged, and half-starved, the}' 
clung to their commander and their cause until only a handful were left. 
Powerless to help them, he could only suffer with them. Once, when he 
was invited to a grand dinner by some wealthy Southerners, he would not 
touch any but the plainest dishes, saying that he could not bear to be 
feasting when his soldiers were starving. 

His tenderness and kindness to all made him dearly loved by his 
men, and many touching stories are told of his goodness of heart. One 
day, when inspecting some batteries not far from the Union lines, the 



104 ROBERT E. LEE. 

soldiers gathered round him so as to attract the fire of the enemy. Lee 
told the men that they had better go into the back-yard and not expose 
themselves to unnecessary danger. They did so, and when he had fin- 
ished his work he followed. On his way back, while the bullets were 
whizzing past, he stopped in his quick walk to pick up a young sparrow 
which had fallen out of its nest and put it back in the tree before he went on. 
There was a very strong friendship between Lee and Thomas Jona- 
than Jackson, who is often called " Stonewall Jackson." Each had the 
greatest admiration for the other. Jackson said : " General Lee is a 
phenomenon. He is the only man I would follow blindfold." 

WOULD NOT ROB ANOTHER OF HIS HONORS. 

Twice during the war Lee's generous nature shone out most strongly. 
Once it was at Chancellorsville after he had won the field. As he rode 
out in sight of his victorious troops they burst out in enthusiastic cheers 
all along the line. But he refused to take the credit of the victory ; he 
said it belonged to Jackson. Then again at Gettysburg in the hour of 
defeat. The battle was lost, it has been said, because someone had not 
obeyed his orders, but not a word of blame did Lee utter. He took all of 
the responsibility upon himself. 

After the war was over Lee was offered several good positions ; one 
was in New York with a large salary, and one was to become President of 
the Washington and Lee University at Lexington, Virginia. Although the 
latter offered him poorer pay than almost any of the other positions, he 
decided to accept it, because it seemed to him his duty. The future of the 
country, he thought, depends upon its young men. The South had an 
uncertain future, and there would be great need of good citizens. As 
president of a college he would become well acquainted with the future 
citizens of his State, and he could help to fit them for useful, noble lives. 

He had a difiicult task before him, owing to the disturbed state of 
the country and the wild and disobedient spirit of the 3^oung people who 
had grown up without much training during the war — for the conflict had 
scattered homes and broken up families throughout a large part of the 
South. One of his chief cares was to keep them from cruelty to the negroes 
and from violent outbreaks against any one connected with the North. 

Lee himself was very free from resentment toward the Union States, 
and he did a great deal to gfive his pupils fair and peaceable ideas. He did 
not govern his college like an army. He was as capable of being a kind 



COMMODORE PERRY. 



105 



and generous school-manager as of maintaining strict army discipline, and 
when his death came suddenly, he was as sincerely mourned for a noble and 
upright Christian gentleman as a leader of armies and winner of battles. 
Robert E. Lee was born at Stratford. Virginia, June 19, 1807. He 
died at L,exington in the same State, October 12, 1870. 

QUESTIONS. 

Where was General Lee educated ? How old was he when he gradu- 
ated ? What position did he hold in the Mexican War ? Whom did he 
marry ? Did he approve of the Southern States leaving the Union ? 
When did he take command of the army to defend Richmond ? Describe 
his exploits as commander of the Confederate army in Virginia. What 
did he do when the war was over? Where and when was he born, and 
when did he die ? 

COMMODOEE PEREY 

AlH) HIS YICTOET OE" LAKE EEIE. 




^^29* AID Uncle Frank, as he took his seat under the big elm 
^"rj??^ iu front of the house, I have been reading again the 
story of that brave naval commander, Oliver Hazard 
Perry. Who can tell me anything about him ? 

Mabel quickly replied, he fought the battle of 
Lake Erie, and was one of our greatest naval heroes. 
That is correct, said Uncle Frank, and you should 
know his history. About the year 1800 our Govern- 
ment had a war with the Barbary States. Can you 
tell me where to find these states on the map ? 

In the northern part of Africa, said James, who had studied his geo- 
graphy and was very fond of it. 

Quite right, replied Uncle Frank, and our Government once sent a 
fleet over there to put an end to the trouble and make peace. One of the 
ships sent was the Adams, and Perry was a midshipman on this vessel, 
then a young man seventeen years of age. He belonged to a seafaring 
famil3^ His father was a captain in the navy of the Revolution, who had 
distinguished himself in several engagements, and all of his four brothers 



106 COMMODORE PERRY. 

became ofiBcers in the Uuited States Navj^, and did excellent sei-vice in the 
War of 1812. A midshipman has not a very important part in the battles 
of his ship, bnt young Perry made the most of his chances in the Mediter- 
ranean. He had already been on a vessel under his father's command and 
had obtained some experience in sea-fighting a few years before, during 
the threatened war with France, when old Captain Christopher R. Perr}-, 
in command of the General Greene, had most successfully obeyed orders 
to disperse a nest of French cruisers at the West Indies. 

HE WAS RAPIDLY PROMOTED. 

Young Perry's good traits were soon noted ; before long he was pro- 
moted, and by the time he was twenty-one he reached the rank of lieuten- 
ant. Shortly after this, the prospects of a second war with England 
became very clear, and Perry was sent to the navy 3'ards at Newport to 
overlook the building of seventeen gunboats. When they were finished, 
they were called into immediate use, and he was told to take charge of 
them and station his fleet around New York to protect our trading- vessels 
from the French and English, who were at war at the time and were 
inclined to treat the young American nation with contempt. France was 
rather unfriendly to us yet, because the Government refused to take her 
part in the European war, about sixteen years after the Revolution. 
Matters were better now than they had been, but there were stil! a good 
many annoyances, from time to time. 

In about 1808 Perry was employed to attend to the building of more 
vessels, and after that he was put in charge of the Revenge and a squad- 
ron of smaller vessels ordered to cruise along the Atlantic coast. The 
trouble? that finally brought on the war were growing every month, and 
a good fleet under able command was needed all along our shores to pro- 
tect American merchant vessels from the British cruisers. 

One day an order came to the commander of the Revenge to do some- 
thing more than cruise up and down. The American merchantman 
Diana, which belonged to some private citizens of the United States, had 
been carried oflF by an Englishman and put under British colors. Perry's _ 
orders were to find and capture her. He soon found out where she was 
stationed, and, collecting his forces, boldl}^ sailed up and took possession 
of her. The Englishmen fumed and fired their guns, but Perry stood 
their smoke and shell, and triumphantly carried off his prize. 



COMMODORE PERRY. 10? 

After this the English cruisers grew more and more insolent. At 
last they began to board all vessels carrjdng the American flag, and, by 
what they called a " right of search," carry off all the British-bom sailors 
they could find and put them into their own service, claiming that he who 
had been a British subject once must always be. Then some of the lead- 
ers in Congress declared that we were having a peace that was like war, 
and roused the nation to a second resistance against royal tyranny. 

HURRIED AWAY TO JOIN THE NAVY. 

War was declared against Great Britain June i8, 1812, and although 
the news reached Perry soon after his wedding-day, he hastened to Wash- 
ington and asked for a place in the navy. He was promised the first one 
that could be prepared for an ofl&cer of his rank. Our navy was then in 
a very good condition ; we had a number of new vessels and a valiant 
corps of marines. Perry was soon put in command of a flotilla to defend 
Newport. His rank was now master commandant, a good post ; but there 
was little to be done here, and Perry was very anxious to be in the thick- 
est of the fight. So, in the next February, he was ordered to Lake Erie 
to build two brigs and take command of a fleet to engage the British ves- 
sels already on the lake. 

Before his vessels were ready he was invited to assist Commodore 
Chauncey in making an attack on Fort George, on Lake Ontario, at the 
mouth of Niagara River. His little boat arrived at the commodore's ship 
just before the battle. He struck in at once, and, seeing that the order of 
the battle had been very poorly planned, his great desire was to fill up the 
gaps. He seemed to be everywhere just when needed, in fighting, in 
directing attacks, and in inspiring the men. The British were success- 
fully driven out, and in the pride of his victory. Commodore Chauncey did 
not hesitate to say that it was largely Captain Perry's work that had won 
the day. 

Before long the new squadron was finished and equipped, and lay, 
ready for action, in Put-in-Bay. Soon the expected enemy was sighted 
near the town of Sandusky. There were six vessels with a fighting force 
of over sixty guns and five hundred men. Perry with his nine vessels 
had about the same number of men, but only fifty-four guns, whose range 
was much shorter than the British cannon. 

When they met, this gave the English the advantage for awhile, and 
Perry's flag-ship was badly damaged. He was obliged to leave it, and in 



108 COMMODORE PERRY. 

tlie thick of the fight, with smoke of powder filling the air, and shots 
flying all about him, he took an open boat to the Niagara, half a mile 
away. Then, with all the smaller vessels close together, he bore down 
upou the British, opening a fire that in seven minutes compelled the sur- 
render of their flag-ship, which was quickly followed by three more. The 
other two tried to run away, but were overtaken and captured in a little 
over an hour. 

This closed the battle of Lake Erie, for which the loth of October, 
1813, will always be a memorable date in American history. It was a 
brilliant victory. That three hours of fighting cleared the Northwest of 
a powerful branch of the enemy's forces. As soon as the conflict wa,v. 
decided. Perry seized a scrap of paper, and, resting it on his hat, wrote ti;» 
headquarters : " We have met the enemy, and they are ours — two ships,, 
two brigs, one schooner, and one sloop." 

GOLD MEDALS FOR THE VICTORS. 

This victory was of great importance; it gave the Americans com' 
plete control of the lakes and was the chief step toward closing the war in 
the West. Congress was delighted with the conquest. Perry and Elliot, 
one of his ofiicers, were rewarded with gold medals, while other honors 
were bestowed upon some of the lesser ofiicers who had shown specially 
gallant conduct. 

After the British were driven out of the West, and the war in that 
section drew to a close, Perry was given another command in the South, 
upon the Java, a new frigate just finished at Baltimore. But this was 
shut up in the bay by a British squadron, which finally began to ascend 
the Potomac. Perry was instantly called to take charge of a fort and fire 
upon them as they passed. But they had a good place and kept it, hem- 
ming in the Java, while her commander employed his time fitting out 
other ships, until the war was over. 

In the Algeria trouble, which had to be settled as soon as the treaty 
with England was signed. Perry, in the Java, followed Decatur to the 
Mediterranean, where he helped the gallant hero of the Tripolitan War to 
force the rest of the Barbary pirates to promise to le American ships 
alone without being paid for it. 

Among the many deeds of Perry's noble-heartedness and courage, 
there is one that occurred after his return from the Mediterranean, which 
filled his countrymen with greater admiration than even the victory of 



COMMODORE PERRY. 109 

Lake Erie, there he had his couutry's freedom and his own gloiy to spur 
him on. But this deed was only in answer to a call of duty, which many 
men would never have heard. His vessel lay in Newport Harbor in the 
winter of 1818. One bitterly cold night, during a fearful storm, word was 
brought that a merchant vessel had been driven on a reef, six miles awaj. 
As soon as Perry heard it, he called out to his men to man his barge, 
and, in that inspiring voice which had so often cheered the battle ranks 
when hope was wavering, rang out the shout, " Come, my boys, we are 
going to the relief of shipwrecked seamen ; pull away ! " Out in the face 
of the bitter storm and over the surging sea they went. They made 
toward the reef, and found a quarter-deck of the wreck floating upon the 
angry waves, with vileven half-dead men clinging to her timbers. The 
poor fellows were rescued and taken back to care, to comfort, and to life. 

STRICKEN DOWN BY YELLOW FEVER. 

The pirates of the Barbary States were not the only robbers that 
harassed American ships. There was a swarm of them in the West India 
seas that annoyed and even injured our commerce very seriously, and in 
the spring Perry was put in command of a squadron and ordered to whip 
the troublesome thieves, and then go to the Caribbean Sea and pay the 
respects of his nation to the new republics along the coast. He reached 
the South, but had only been there a short time, and had not yet fulfilled 
his commission before he died of the yellow fever, which was then spread- 
ing through his squadron. 

Oliver H. Perry was bom at South Kingston, Rhode Island, August 
23, 1785; he died on his thirty-fourth birthday, 1819, on board the John 
Adams, just as she was entering the harbor of Port Spain, in the West 
India island of Trinidad. . 

QUESTIONS. 

Where are the Barbary States ? On what ship did Perry serve as 
midshipman ? What rank did his father hold ? At the outbreak of our 
second war with England, to what service was Perry assigned? What 
prize did he capture from the English ? Why did we have war with 
Great Britain in 181 2 ? Describe the battle of Lake Erie. What gallant 
feat did Perry perform in the midst of the battle ? What noble deed did 
he perform in Newport Harbor? Where and when was he born, and 
where and when did he die ? 



THE TRICK JACK DAVIS PLAYED ON A 
BRITISH OFFICER. 




PICNIC had been arranged by the young people, and 
Uncle Frank was to go with. them. He consented to 
do this on condition that he should have time to give 
them another story from which they might learn a 
lesson in American history. 

After the lunch dishes and baskets had been put 
away, all seated themselves in a cool nook on the 
edge of a beautiful grove and Uncle Frank said he 
would tell them of a shrewd old countryman in South 
Carolina during the War of the Revolution. 

About the last of December, 1779, Sir Henry Clinton, the British 
jcneral, leaving a strong garrison to hold New York, sailed South, with 
;he greater part of his army. He proceeded first to Savannah, and then 
noved northward, for the purpose of besieging Charleston. General 
Lincoln, who had command of the American forces in that district, ex- 
erted himself with energy to fortify that city. Four thousand citizens 
enrolled themselves to assist the regular garrison in the defence, but only 
:wo hundred militia from the interior responded to Lincoln's call for aid. 
Reinforcements were received from Virginia and North Carolina, and 
Lincoln was able to muster seven thousand men, of whom but two thou- 
sand were regular troops. 

In February, 1780, the British landed at St. John's Island, about 
thirty miles below Charleston. Clinton advanced towards the city along 
the banks of the Ashley, while the fleet sailed around to force an entrance 
into the harbor. 

Charleston was now completely invested, and the siege was pressed 
with vigor b}^ Clinton. Lincoln's situation became every day more hope- 
less. The fire of the British artillery destroyed his defences and dis- 
mounted his cannon, and, as he was entirely cut off from the country, he 
had no hope of relief from without. On the 9th day of May a terrific fire 
was opened upon the defences and the city of Charleston. The city was 
110 



JACK DAVIS AND THE BRITISH OFFICER. HI 

set on fire in five places, and the American works were reduced to a mass 
of ruins. 

On the 1 2th Lincoln surrendered the town and his army to Sir Heury 
Clinton. The prisoners, including every male adult in the city, numbered 
about six thousand men. The regulars were held as prisoners of war, but 
the militia were dismissed to their homes, on their promise not to serve 
again during the war. 

The only resistance kept up by the Americans was maintained by 
the corps of patriots led by Marion, Sumter, and Pickens, all famous 
American fighters. The exploits of these daring bands caused the British 
commander to feel that he could not hold the Carolinas except by the aid 
of a strong force, and kept him in a state of constant uneasiness. On the 
1 6th of August Sumter defeated a large body of British and Tories at 
Hanging Rock, east of the Wateree River. Large numbers of negroes 
deserted their masters and fled to the British. 

ROVING BANDS OF FIGHTING PATRIOTS. 

The fighting of Marion and his men was much like that of the wild 
Indians of the southwest. When hotly pursued by the enemy his com- 
mand would break up into small parties, and these, as they were hard 
pressed, would divide again, until nearly every patriot was fleeing alone. 
There could be no successful pursuit, therefore, since the division of the 
pursuing party w^eakened it too much. The British Colonel Tarlton was 
trying to break up these bands of American soldiers. 

" We will give fifty pounds to get within reach of the scamps that 
galloped by here, just ahead of us," exclaimed a lieutenant of Tarlton's 
cavalry, as he and the three other troopers drew up before a farmer, who 
was hoeing in the field by the roadside. 

The farmer looked up, leaning on his hoe, took off his old hat, and 
mopping his forehead with his handkerchief, looked at the angry soldiers, 
and in a don't-care manner said : 

" Fifty pounds is a big lot of money." In our money it is two hun- 
dred dollars. 

" So it is in these times, but we will give it to you in gold, if j^ou'll 
show us where we can get a chance at that rebel ; did you see him ? " 

'' He was all alone, wasn't he ? And he was mounted on a black 
horse with a white star in his forehead, and he was going like a streak of 
lightning, wasn't he?" 





iiiiBwIJii'y 



4':i ii&y ito; .,, 5.v:t>\i''^k' 



V, 't l'!vN!",1l|l|l|n''-'*'-P|lL|ff 



ftiii^*^^^^^ 



112 



TARLEXON'S lylEUTENANT AND THE FARMER. 



JACK DAVIS AND THE BRITISH OFFICER. 118 

" That's the fellow ! " exclaimed the questioner, hoping that they were 
about to get the information wanted. 

" It looked to me like Jack Davis, though he went by so fast that I 
couldn't get a square look at his face, but he was one of Marion's men, 
and if I ain't greatly mistaken it was Jack Davis himself." 

Then looking up at the four British horsemen, the farmer added, 
with a quizzical expression : 

" I reckon that ere Jack Davis has hit you chaps pretty hard this 
time, ain't he ? '' 

" Never mind about /"//a/," replied the lieutenant ; " what we want to 
know is where we can get a chance at him for just about five minutes. 
He has been in our camp, robbing and stealing like a pirate ; two men 
grabbed him, but he knocked down one, killed the other, ran to his horse, 
and away he went. He had his auimal in the woods close by, but it was 
such a poor looking brute that we felt sure of catching him. But weve 
ridden hard for two hours and are further off than when we started. His 
horse seemed to be tired, and I've an idea that he may be hiding some- 
where around here." 

The farmer put his cotton handkerchief inco his hat, which he now 
slowly replaced, and shook his head . 

'' I don't think he's hiding round here,'' he said ; "when he shot by 
Jack was going so fast that he didn't look as if he could stop under four 
or five miles. Strangers, I'd like powerful well to earn that fifty pounda^ 
but I don't think you'll get a chance to squander it on me." 

MOUNTED HIS HORSE AND WAS OFF. 

After some further questioning, the lieutenant and his men wheeled 
their horses and trotted back toward the main body of Tarleton's cavalry. 
The farmer plied his hoe for several minutes, gradually working his way 
towards the stretch of woods some fifty feet from the roadside. Reaching 
the margin of the field, he stepped in among the trees, hastily took off his 
clothing, tied it up in a bundle, shoved it under a dat rock from beneath 
which he drew a suit no better in quality, but showing a faint likeness to 
a uniform. Putting it on and then plunging still deeper into the woods 
he soon reached a dimly-marked track, which he followed only a short 
distance, when a gentle whinney fell upon his ear. 

The next moment he vaulted on the back of a bony but blooded horse, 
marked by a beautiful star in his forehead. The satin skin of the st««d 



114 ROBERT MORRIS. 

shone as though he had been traveling hard, and his rider allowed him to 
walk along the path for a couple of miles, when he entered an open space 
where, near a spring, Francis Marion and fully two hundred men were 
encamped. They were eating, smoking and chatting as though no such 
a horror as war was known. 

You understand, of course, that the farmer that leaned on his hoe by 
\he roadside and talked to Tarleton's lieutenant about Jack Davis and his 
exploits was Jack Davis himself 

He was pretty sharp, wasn't he ? said James. 

Yes, said Uncle Frank, and that trick saved his life. 

QUESTIONS. 

What did the British general do with his army? Who was the 
American general in the South ? Why was he compelled to surrender 
Charleston ? Name some of the commanders on the American side. 
What British officer tried to capture Jack Davis ? Why did he not suc- 
ceed ? What did Jack Davis do -after he left the field where he pretended 
to be at work ? 



EOBEKT MOREIS 

THE GREAT FIl^Ai^OIER 



HERE is a word that I do not know the meaning of, 
said James, looking thoughtfully up into the face of 
Uncle Frank. 

Let me guess, said Elsie, who came into the room 
at that moment. What word is it ? 

Financier, said James. Uncle Frank glanced to- 
ward Elsie, as if wondering whether she could tell its 
meaning. 

It has something to do with money, said Elsie, 
and that is all I know about it. 

Yes, said Uncle Frank, and if you will sit down I will tell you of a 

great financier who helped our country at a time when we were in need. 

'^It has been said that our first debt of gratitude for American liberty was 

due to three men — George Washington as a general, Benjamin Franklin 

as a statesman, and Robert Morris as a financier. 




ROBERT MORRIS. 



115 



The first two were great in many ways, and have a wide fame in more 
than one calling, while Morris is celebrated only as a money manager. 
But in the use of his one talent and in the giving of his one vast gift he 
saved his adopted country from ruin and the labor of the other patriots 
from ending in failure. He was an Englishman by birth, but having 
been brought to this country by his father when he was a boy, he grew 
up as stanch a patriot as those of the oldest Colonial blood. Very soon he 
began to show a wonder- 
ful talent for business. 
As a lad of fifteen he was 
put in a Philadelphia 
counting house, and when 
he reached the age of 
twenty he became a part- 
ner in the firm and com- 
menced to amass a foi 
tune. 

By the time the war- 
cloud with England be- 
gan to gather he was a 
very wealthy man, fam- 
ous for his honesty and 
ability. No firm in Penn- 
sylvania — then one of the 
most important and weal- 
thy of all the Colonies — 
did a larger business than 
that of Willing & Morris. 
But when the troubles 
thickened with England, 
he boldly sided with the patriots, and sacrificed a great deal of trade for 
the sake of principle, for his house was then doing a large and profitable 
business with the mother country. 

Ten years later he was a member of the Continental Congress, and 
although, like many others, he felt that the time had not yet come to 
adopt it, he signed the Declaration of Independence. For several years 
after, he served on the Committee of Ways and Means, and by his careful 
management and judicious advice upon money matters was of the greatest 




ROBERT MORRIS. 



116 



ROBERT MORRIS. 



?^^^ 



No. 



/^^ 



Thirty Dollars 

THE Bearer is en 
titled ia reai-v* Thirty 
Sfanijh milled D O L 
vLARS, or an equei 
\^um in Gold or Silver, 
laccording to a Refo 
llution of CONGRESS 
^ of the 14th yanuary, 
1779- 

10 Dollars. 



service to tlie cause. When our little Treasury grew low, or was empty, 
and Congress was very close to failure, lie gave all lie had himself, and 
borrowed large sums of money on his own credit, or used the honorable 
name of his firm to obtain funds which would never have been risked to 
Congress, whose cause seemed very likely to fail anyway. 

But Robert Morris's name was as good as the gold, and when the 
destitute troops were on the verge of an outbreak among themselves, and 
Washington was almost in despair, the signature of the honored mer- 
chant raised fifteen millions of dollars from the French, and made it possi- 
ble for the Commander to 
carryforward his last cam- 
paign and force the sur- 
render of Cornwallis at 
Yorktown. 

After the war, he was 
twice a member of the 
Pennsylvania Legislature 
and helped to frame the 
Federal Constitution. He 
served as a Senator after- 
ward, and more than once 
was pressed by Washing- 
ton to accept the ofl&ce of 
SPKCiMEN OF CONTINENTAL CURRENCY. Secretary of the Treasury 

in his Cabinet. But he refused this ofi&ce, and named Alexander Hamil- 
ton as one better able to fill it than himself 

After his term as Senator was over, he went out of public life with 
less than half the wealth he had when he entered it. Being still in the 
prime of life, he entered into business again and built up a large East 
India trade. In the same year that he resigned the office of financier, he 
sent the Empress of China from New York to Canton, the first American 
vessel that ever entered that port. He also marked out a course to China, 
by which the dangerous winds that swept over the Eastern seas at some 
seasons of the year might be avoided, and, to prove the wisdom of follow- 
ing this course, he sent out a vessel that made a successful trip over it. 

After awhile he bought a great deal of land in the western part of 
New York, then the wild frontier. But the investment proved a failure, 
and Mr. Morris lost about all that he had. The great man who had saved 



^/> 



//^ 



WILLIAM PENN. 117 

tlie American armies from mutiny and famine, wiio liad redeemed the 
credit of his State and his adopted country, had made his wealth the na- 
tion's, and staked his own spotless reputation for her sake, spent his last 
years in poverty and debt. Neither his country nor his State came for- 
ward to relieve his distress, although for their needs he had given every- 
thing he had, excepting his honor — there never was a shadow cast on that, 
either in public or in private life — and they owed him princely fortunes 
in debts of gratitude. 

Robert Morris was born in Lancaster, England, June, 1734. He 
died in Philadelphia, May 8, 1806. 

QUESTIONS. 

What is the meaning of " financier?" What two other great Amer- 
icans is Morris compared with ? What was his first situation in business? 
When war with England broke out what did he do ? Once when our 
treasury was very low how did he help our Government ? What did he 
t^n after the war ? What can you say of his last days ? 



WILLIAM PENN 

FOUlsnDER OF PERNSYLVANIA. 



'EARLY half a century after the settlement of James- 
town, in Virginia, and about twenty years after the 
Pilgrims landed, said Uncle Frank, there arose in 
England a class of people called Quakers. The doc- 
trines which they believed were so forcibly preached 
by their leader that many people began to join their 
society. 

Among these was William Penn, the son of a 
distinguished admiral in the British Navy. This 
man — the father — stood in great favor with the King and the Court, and 
when he heard that his son William — whom he had sent to college and of 
whom he had expected great things — was turning Quaker, his rage knew 
no bounds. He declared that no son of his should leave the good and 
regular Church of England and join a despised sect. Finding that argu- 




118 



WILLIAM PENN. 



ment had no effect, lie tried a sound thrashing, and when this, too, failed 
to change the opinions of the willful son, he turned him out-of-doors. 

William was then eighteen years old. He had been finely educated, 
was well built and robust, and with a mind strongly inclined to religious 
thoughts. He already believed so firmly that the doctrines of the Qua- 
kers were right in the sight of God that nothing could induce him to 
renounce them. Seeing this, and being begged by his wife to take back 

his harsh words. Admiral Penn 
sent to his son to come home, 
where he would be protected from 
the general Quaker persecution by 
his father's high standing. 

But his friends in the new re- 
ligion did not fare so well. All the 
rest of the society were sorely ill- 
treated by the rulers. Bven he was 
arrested while preaching in the 
streets and imprisoned on a charge 
of disturbing the peace, although 
he was soon released as not guilty. 
After that event his father 
sent him to France, thinking that 
the gay company he would have 
there would cool his religious fer- 
ivor. But it did not do so. He 
continued to preach and to teach 
WILLIAM PENN. and to write on the subject that 

interested him above all others. He went on his preaching tours through 
England, Holland and Germany, and in all places he was aroused by the 
sufferings of the peace-loving Quakers. 

They were fined, robbed, imprisoned and ill-treated in many other 
ways, all on account of their beliefs. While Penn was studying how to 
procure relief for them, George Fox, the great leader of the Quakers, 
begged him to do something for those in Lord Baltimore's colony in 
America. This led him to think of the New World as a place of refuge 
for all of them. 

The King had become indebted to Penn's father — who was now dead 
— for a large sum of money. Penn went to him and asked him to pay the 




WILLIAM PENN. 



119 



.iebt by granting Wm a tract of land in America. After awhile the king 
agreed to do so, and made over to Penn about forty-tbousand acres of ter- 
ritory north of Virginia, which was already settled by a number of Quaker 
refugees. The only claim reserved by the King was that he should 
receive a payment of two beaver skins every year. 




TREE UNDER WHICH PENN SIGNED HIS TREATY WITH THE INDIANS. 

Now, at last, Penn had a refuge for the followers of the Quaker reli- 
gion, and a large number of them were soon persuaded to leave their 
unhappy homes in Europe and form a colony in the New World. He 
wished to name the country New Wales, but the King insisted upon call- 
ing it Pennsylvania — not in honor of William, as many people think, but 
of his father, who was a friend of the King. In February of the next 
year Penn with eleven other men bought East New Jersey, which was 
then a flourishing colony, and in September he sailed for his new posses- 
sions, where he was cordially welcomed by the Friends already there. He 
had made out a form of government and laws for the colony before leaving 
England, and his first work was to make peace with the Indians. 



110 



WILLIAM PENN. 



He and the other leaders in the colony met a large company of the 
red men under a great elm-tree by the side of the Delaware, and all 
agreed that they would live on terms of peace and friendliness for each 
other as long as " creeks and rivers run, and while the sun, moon, and 
stars endure." No oaths^ere made, nor long articles of agreement drawn 
up, yet the bond was never violated, " the only treaty in history that was 
never sworn to and never broken." 

INDIANS LIVED IN PEACE WITH THE QUAKERS. 

The Indians always remembered the great "Mignon," as they called 
Penn, and each generation told their children of his justice and goodness. 
They butchered and scalped and burned the dwellings of other settlers, but 
the peace-loving, drab-coated Quakers were never disturbed. On the 

banks of the Delaware, in the outskirts of 
Philadelphia, stands a monument erected in 
honor of this treaty. 

Penn's next work was to provide for .«, 
capital city, wheie the seat of the coloL'iiil 
government might be made. He purchased 
the necessary land of the Swedes, who had 
bought it of the Indians, and named it 
Philadelphia — the City of Brotherly Love 
— hoping that the inhabitants would always 
carry out the spirit of its name. 

When the government of the colony 
TREATY MONUMENT. ^as Settled in good order Penn returned to 

England. Here he found that during his absence his Quaker brethren 
had been very badly used. He went to the King and obtained a promise 
that the persecution should be stopped at once, and it was, in a great 
measure. 

A few months afterward Charles II. died, and James II. took the 
throne. He and Penn were intimate friends, and much of their time was 
passed together. Penn was known to have so much influence with King 
James that people crowded to his house to beg him to ask royal favors for 
them. At that time there were many people shut up in the prisons of 
England because their religious beliefs differed from that of the Estab- 
lished Church of England ; and one of the good causes Penn won was to 
have these people set free. Among them were twelve hundred Quakers. 





WILLIAM PENN. 121 

It was ten years before lie went back to his colony in America. Dur- 
ing this time James II was deposed and William of Orange was placed 
on the throne ; and Penn, as the friend of the former King, was accused 
of treason and put in prison ; and although he was soon acquitted, his 
liberty did not last long, for a new charge was raised against him, and he 
was obliged to keep out of the way of his enemies, and also to lose many 
of his former friends. In the midst of this trouble his wife died, and he 
was deprived of the government of his colony in America. These were 
dark days, but he spent them profitabl}^, writing books 
for the comfort and defence of the Friends, and devising 
means of helping the colonists in Pennsylvania out of the 
troubles that had come upon them through bad manage- 
ment during his long absence. 

At last his accusers lost their influence with the 
King; he was again made governor of his colony, and, 
after attending to various business matters and church 
interests, he embarked once more for America. He found 
affairs in Pennsylvania in a very bad state. Ill-feeling 
had grown up between the Quakers and other members 
of the colony, and many other matters had gone wrong. 

He set about instituting a better government at once, penn s clock. 
and began looking after the condition of the negro slaves and the Indians 
within the colony. Another treaty was made with the red men, presents 
were exchanged with them, and they agreed to look to the King of Eng- 
land as their protector. 

GAVE A CHARTER TO PHILADELPHIA. 

While thus occupied in making better the condition of all the people 
in the colony, Penn heard that there was talk in England of taking it 
away from him and returning it to the crown, so he had to hurry back 
and attend to the matter. His last act before leaving America — for what 
proved to be the last time — was to give a charter to the city of Philadelphia. 

Soon after Penn's arrival in England, the King decided not to take 
possession of the colony ; but other trouble came up, more dissensions 
among the settlers, and more persecutions for the Quakers in their native 
land, so that the last days of the peace-loving old man were filled with 
tidings of strife, where he had labored most for harmony. 

His own life, too, was filled with grief in his last years. Unfaithful 



122 



WILLIAM PENN. 



agents had so badly managed his property that his fortune was lost and 
he was put in prison because he would not pay these agents some unreason- 
able sums that they claimed to be due them. He had some good friends, 
though, who secured his release. Then he asked the Legislature of 
Pennsylvania to loan him some money to help him out of his difEculties, 
but they refused. This was one of the greatest sorrows of his life, for he 

had given his work, his time, and a great 
deal of money to help the colonists in 
many ways ; and now that he was old 
and in distress their ingratitude almost 

. broke his heart. 

The Letitia House, in 
which Penn resided in 
Philadelphia, formerly 
stood in Letitia Street, 
near Second and Market, 
and was named after his 
daughter Letitia. It was 
taken down, removed to 
Fairmount Park, and put 
up again, just as it was 

PENN'S (LETITIA) HOUSE. g^^^ ^^-^^^ 

William Penn was born in London, England, October 14, 1644. He 
died at Ruscombe, Berkshire, England, July 30, 17 18. 




QUESTIONS. 

To what sect did William Penn belong ? How did his father treat 
him ? What brought him to America ? What about the treaty he made 
with the Indians ? Where was this treaty made ? What was the feeling 
of the Indians toward him ? What troubles did he have with the English 
Government ? What became of the house he lived in ? Where and when 
was he born ? Where and when did he die ? 



HENEY CLAY 

THE OELEBEATED ORATOR. 




LSIE had been reading from a library book that had 
pictures of famous orators, one of them being Henry- 
Clay. You promised, she said to Uncle Frank, to 
tell us about him, and perhaps you will do it now. 

It would give me great pleasure to do so, replied 
Uncle Frank, as he took off his spectacles and laid 
them on the settee where they were sitting. 

Henry Clay, he said, one of America's greatest 
orators, was born in a low, swampy district in Vir- 
ginia, called the " Slashes." He began his education at a log-cabin 
school-house in Hanover County. His father died when he was about 
five years old, leaving a large family and scarcely anything to support 
them, so it was Clay's duty to work, more than to study, even while he 
was very young. He did chores, helped on the farming and carried grain 
to the mill. This is why he was called the " Mill-boy of the Slashes." 

WAS ABLE TO LOOK OUT FOR HIMSELF. 

When fourteen years old he went into a store in Richmond, from 
which he was taken into the ofl&ce of the Clerk of the Court of Chancery. 
He was an awkward boy then, and the other lads in the office made fun 
of him. But they found out, that he was able to take his own part, and 
that it was better to have Henry Clay for a friend than anenemy. 

His work was mostly dull copying, but he gathered from it all the 
knowledge and hints about law that he could, and so pleased the Chancel- 
lor that he asked him to become his private secretary. The Chancellor 
was a very industrious and painstaking man, not only in studying law, 
but in gathering general knowledge. His secretary was just the sort of 
an energetic, studious fellow he liked, so he talked with him and taught 
him a great deal, and always found him glad to learn. 

In a little while Clay began to read law, and did it so earnestly and 
thoroughly tkst he was able to practice before he was twenty-one. 

123 



124 



HBNRY CLAY. 



Although, he was bright and winning in his manners, he did not seek gay, 
lively young people for his companions ; most of his time was given to 
work, but he had a few well-chosen young friends, and never lost a chance 
to be with good men and women from whom he could learn wisdom in 
knowledge and character. 

The year in which Henry Clay was admitted to the bar, there were a 
great many people moving westward to settle the fertile valleys of Ken- 
tucky. The young lawyer thought this would be a good chance for him 
to build up a fine practice, and so he became a citizen of Lexington. He 

was very poor at first, but what- 
ever he undertook was so well 
done that he soon became widely 
known and had plenty of busi- 
ness. In a few years he married 
a Kentucky lady, and began to 
take an active part in politics 
on the side of the newly-formed 
Republican part}', led by Thom- 
as Jefierson, and opposed to the 
Federal party, led by Alexander 
Hamilton. 

About this time the people 
of Kentucky were making over 
their Constitution, and Clay 
worked so zealously to have 
slavery put out of the State that 
he lost a great deal of his popu- 
HENRY CLAY. larity, for Kentucky had large 

interests in slave labor. But he came back into favor again, and in 1803 
he was elected to the Kentucky Legislature by a large vote. He was 
among the foremost men of his State, and was soon sent to the United 
States Senate to finish out the term of a man who had retired. In about 
three 3'ears more he was returned by regular election, and after that term 
was over he became a member of the House of Representatives in Wash- 
ington, where he was elected speaker after a few months. 

These were in the early years of this century, when troubles were 
thickening between England and America for a second time. Clay's 
stand was decidedly in favor of letting the war come on. He strongly 




HENRY CLAY. 125 

denounced England's claim of right to search our vessels on the high seas 
and take away our sailors because they had once been British subjects, 
and he declared that we should hold to our rights as a nation at whatever 
cost. 

But he was not a lover of strife, and when Russia offered, as a friend 
to both countries, to help arrange some terms of peace, " Harry of the 
West," as Clay was called, was thought to be a wise person to put upon 
the committee for the United States. With four other commissioners, he 
went to Gheut, in Belgium, where a treaty was agreed upon the day 
before Christmas, 1814. This treaty ended the war, and by Clay's careful 
management was made favorable to the United States in many ways. 

MANY YEARS SPEAKER OF THE HOUSE. 

On coming back to America he was at once re-elected to Congress 
and to the Speakership, which post he held thirteen years altogether. 
There was a powerful order and a charming dignity in the way in which 
he presided over the restless and excitable body of Representatives, whose 
sessions are so different from the calm and sedate meetings of the Senate ; 
find during all the time not one of his decisions was reversed. 

When Clay was Speaker of the House and before John Quincy 
iVdams was President, he was chief supporter of the famous Missouri 
Compromise. This was in 1821, when a long and bitter struggle took 
t^jlace between the pro-slavery and anti-slavery parties over the admission 
of Missouri into the Union. The Compromise admitted Missouri as a 
♦■lave State, but forbid slavery in the Territories north of a certain lati- 
tude. Mason and Dixon's Liue, as it has been called since then. The dis- 
putes that had been constantly going on between the North and South ^ 
and grown very hot of late, were settled by this measure for about twenty- 
five years. 

After this Mr. Clay was out of politics for a short time, attending to 
his profession and earning money to cover some large private losses he 
had had. But in 1823 he returned and was elected Speaker once more by 
a large vote. It was during this session that Webster made his famous 
resolutions in behalf of the Greeks suffering from the tyranny of the 
Turks, which Clay most heartily supported. 

Southerner as he was, Henry Clay was also a firm Union man. In 
one of his speeches he said he owed his first and great duty to the whole 
Union, and under that and after it came the claims of his State. He was 



126 HENRY CLAY. 

strongly in favor of gradually putting down slavery ; but, as a celebrated 
writer has said, compromises can only be made upon measures, not with 
principles, and so the most that they could effect was to keep off the day 
of outbreak. Meanwhile the evil was going on, both parties were strength- 
ening, and the opposition growing deeper and more bitter all the while. 

In 1833, when Jackson was nominated a second time for the Presi- 
dency, Clay ran against him, but was defeated. 

From the time he ran against Jackson his party was always wanting 
to make him President. Once he declined and twice he yielded, but he 
was never elected. In the campaign when the Democrats elected Polk, 
he was earnestly opposed to adding Texas to the United States, and de- 
clared that no earthly power would ever induce him to consent to the 
addition of one acre of slave territory to the United States. But the 
measure was carried by Calhoun, who took the office of Secretary of State 
long enough to accomplish it, and then returned to the Senate, where he 
was laboring zealously for the interests of the South. 

GREATLY ADMIRED BY YOUNG MEN. 

Clay was now an old man, but his courteous manner and personal 
magnetism still won new friends as they kept the old ones, and his match- 
less voice, sweeping gestures, and splendid attitudes were still admired 
by the younger men in both House and Senate. 

The last great effort of his life was to secure the series of measures, 
known in history as the Compromise Act of 1850, and which postponed 
the conflict between freedom and slavery for ten years more. 

Henry Clay was bom in " The Slashes " of Hanover County, Vir- 
ginia, April 12, 1777. He died in the city of Washington, June 29, 1852. 

QUESTIONS. 

Where did Clay begin his education ? What name was given him ? 
What did other lads think of him ? Where did he move in order to 
practice law? What offices did he hold in Kentucky and at Washington ? 
What position did he fill in the House of Representatives ? On what 
errand was he sent to Belgium ? How long was he Speaker of the House 
in Washington ? What do j^ou know about the Missouri Compromise ? 
To what high office did Mr. Clay's friends always wish to elect him ? 
Where and when was he born ? What was the date of his death ? 



CHAELES GOODYEAR 

THE REN^OWI^ED IJ^TENTOR. 




HE morning was wet and the young people who had 
been in the garden plucking flowers were compelled 
to put on rubbers. As they came in Uncle Frank 
reminded them that it cost one man many years of 
patient study and labor to make such a preparation of 
India-rubber as would stand both heat and wet. 
Who was he ? asked Mabel. 

Charles Goodyear, said Uncle Frank, and when 
you get your rubbers ofif and are ready to listen, I will 
tell you his story. His discovery cost him eleven years and a half of the 
best of his life, and for it he suffered poverty, disgrace for debts, and ridi- 
cule — sacrifices which were never made up to him, although he lived to 
see his invention used in five hundred different ways, and giving employ- 
ment in Europe and the United States to eighty thousand persons, 
and producing eight million dollars' worth of goods every year. 

HIS YANKEE CURIOSITY. 

Mr. Goodyear at one time was a bankrupt hardware merchant in 
Philadelphia. He was about thirty-five years old and became interested 
with about everybody else in the wonderful trade of the many India- 
rubber companies that were making great quantities of goods of many 
kinds. Being in New York, one day, he bought one of the new India- 
rubber life-preservers that the Roxbury Company had just brought out. 
He took it home, and true to his Connecticut birth, began to examine it 
for the sake of seeing how it was made and if he could improve on it. 
He "soon made up his mind on both these qiiestions, and before long he 
was again at the Roxbury's of&ce with a plan, which he wanted them to 
adopt. The company was not able to make these improved goods, but the 
man in charge saw Mr. Goody ear's plan, and said to him : 

" There are, Mr. Goodyear, a great many India-rubber companies in 
the United States just now that seem to be doing a very fine business, but 

127 



128 



CHARLES GOODYEAR. 



really and truly they are not. They are all a good deal like our com- 
pany ; Ave made, during the cool months of 1833 ^^^ iS34) a ver)'- large 
quantity of shoes and other rubber goods, and sold them to dealers at 
high prices ; but in the summer a great many of them melted, so that 
twenty thousand dollars' worth of our articles were returned to us melted 
4own in common gum that smelt so badly we had to bury it. 

" We've tried mixing new materials with the raw rubber, and new 




GOODYEAR ACCIDENTALLY MAKING HIS GREAT DISCOVERY. 

machinery, but even if our shoes can bear the heat one summer, they will 
melt the next. Wagon-covers, overcoats, hats, and rubber-cloth grow 
sticky in the sun and stiff in the cold. The directors of the company 
don't know what to do. They'll be ruined if they stop making, and the 
whole of the winter's work may melt on their hands as soon as warm 
weather comes. 

" The capital of this company is already used up, and unless the true 
way to use this gum is found — and that soon — the company will have to 



CHARLES GOODYEAR. 



129 



go down in complete ruin. Now, while the gentlemen cannot take this 
improved life-preserver of yours, if you can only find out some way to 
make India-rubber that will stand the summer heat and the winter cold, 
they will gladly give almost anything you ask for that." 

It seemed like a chance talk, but it fixed the life-work of Charles 
Goodyear. He made up his mind — or rather the thought grew in him 
like a presentiment — that this great object could be gained, and he should 
do it ; and yet he knew little about chemistry, and had no money to starl 
with. Owing to the 
failure of some busi- 
ness houses with 
which his father's 
firm was connected, 
the hardware house 
of A. Goodyear & 
Sons was bankriipt, 
and Charles was ar- 
rested for debt almost 
as soon as he reached 
home. He had a 
family, was in rather 
poor health, and so 
seemedto have every people on the street ridiculing goodyeak. 
reason to give up his idea about India-rubber, and to find some pa3dng 
work at once. 

But nothing could change his mind or discourage him. Living 
within the prison limits, he began his experiments, for India-rubber was 
one of the easiest things in the world to obtain in those days. It was 
blind work, and success was long in coming. He was seldom out of jail 
for debt during any year from 1835 to 1841, and although the interest and 
the aid of friends gave out, he patiently kept on in his trials, never being 
too sure, however near he felt to success, and never becoming altogether 
discouraged when his beautiful work melted with the summer's heat into 
a soft, bad-smelling mass of gum. He explained his difl&culties to the 
great professors, physicians, and chemists of the day, but none of them 
could help him. 

Finally, in the spring of 1839, ^^ made a discovery that was the kej 
to his success. Standing one day before a stove m a store at Woburn-. 
9 




180 CHARLES GOODYEAR. 

Massactussets, he was explaining to some acquaintances a piece of sul- 
phur-cured India-rubber whicli lie Held in his hand. They listened to 
him good naturedly, but without putting any faith in what he said, when 
suddenly he dropped the rubber on the stove, which was red hot. His 
old clothes would have melted instantly from contact with such heat ; but 
to his surprise, this piece underwent no such change. In amazement, he 
examined it, and found that while it had charred or shriveled, like leather, 
it had not softened at all. 

The bj/slanders attached no importance to this phenomenon, but to 
him it was a revelation. He, renewed his experiments with enthusiasm, 
and in a little while established the facts that India-rubber, when mixed 
with sulphur and exposed to a certain degree of heat for a certain time, 
would not melt or even soften at au}^ degree of heat, that it would only 
char at a very great heat, and that it would not stiffen from exposure to 
any degree of cold. The difficulty now consisted in finding out the exact 
degree of heat necessary for the perfection of the rubber, and the exact 
length of time required for the heatin-g. 

He had already suffered poverty, ridicule, and imprisonment for debt, 
had sometimes gone hungry, but could not rid himself of the idea that he 
was to make a great discovery. The trouble was to convince others of 
this and make them believe as he did. Now, he felt sure he had suc- 
ceeded after years of privation, having at times even been laughed at by 
people in the street, who called him crazy. 

IT WAS A LUCKY DISCOVERY. 

He tested his new discovery and tried it in various ways, but the 
result was the same ; he had succeeded at last, and he now knew for a 
surety that gum and sulphur mixed and put under great heat would 
afterward stand both heat and cold. He felt himself amply repaid for the 
past, he said, and quite indifferent about the future. 

He spent six years more in the hardest trials and severest labors of 
all, working this discovery out to a practical success, and patiently per- 
fecting one thing after another until he had his inventions secured b}' 
sixty patents. But even then he was not allowed his full reward, for the 
rights were obtained by other persons in England and France, and his 
years of toil and hardship brought him only scant return in money. 

But he was happy that he had been successful, because the work ano 
not the reward was what he labored for. The world acknowledged hi» 



FRANCES WILLARD. 



181 



sei vices, and awarded him honors for his skill and perseverance. Highly 
as he thought of the value of his discovery, he did not overestimate it. 
" Art, science, and humanit}' are indebted to him for a material which is 
useful to them all, and serves tliem as no other known material could." 

Mr. Goodyear was born in New Haven, Connecticut, December 29, 
1800. He died in New York City, July i, i860. 

QUESTIONS. 

How many years was Goodyear in making his discovery ? What 
can you say of his perseverance ? What was the trouble with the India- 
rubber before he invented his process ? How did he make the great dis- 
covery which was the key to his success ? Before this what did people 
think of him and what did they call him ? How many patents did he 
obtain for his discovery ? Was he allowed to reap the full benefit of his 
invention ? Where was he bom, and when and where did he die ? 



#^ 



FEANCES WILLAKD 

a:nd her noble woek. 



^^ OT all great Americans are men, said Elsie. Some of 
them are women, and I think our country ought to 
be proud of them. 

We certainly ought to be proud of one I have in 
mind, said Uncle Frank. 

Who is that ? James asked. 

I mean Miss Frances Willard, said Uncle Frank. 
In every walk of life where it is possible for 
woman to display her talents, her success was very 
great. Our country has every reason to be proud of 
those members of the gentler sex who have become well-known authors 
and have been successful in business, in works of reform, and whose in 
fluence has always been upon the side of good morals, higher education, 
and the noblest womanhood. 

One of our best-known American women wa^ Miss Willard. She 
had fine talents, a warm and earnest spirit, untiring energy, the ability 




1-62 



FRANCES WILLARD. 



to influence others, and seemed to be lacking in nothing that any woman 
needs to make her a power for good. 

Miss Willard was known throughout the country for her devotion to 
the cause of reform, especially that branch of it embraced in Temperance 
work. She attended meetings and conventions, lectured in every part of 
the land, and was always received with the attention due to her noble 
cliaracter and the worthy objects she sought to promote. She was elo- 
quent in the best sense of the term, very fluent in speech, possessed of 
unusual tact, and was heard by multitudes, who were in the habit of say- 
ing that they " do not care to hear a woman speak in public." 

She was born in Churchville, 
N. Y., September 28, 1839, and was 
educated at Milwaukee and the 
Northwestern Female College at 
Evanston, 111 , from which she grad- 
uated in 1859. She became Profes- 
sor of Natural vScience there in 1S62, 
and was principal of Genesee Wes- 
leyan Seminary in i866-'67. 

Considering that no person's 
education is complete without those 
advantages furnished by travel and 
contact with tlie world, she spent 
two years abroad, and then returned 
to become Professor of Esthetics in 
Northwestern University and Dean 
of the Woman's College. This place 
she filled from 1871 to 1874, and^ 
there worked out her system of self-government, which has attracted wide 
attention and has been adopted by other educators. She became con- 
vinced at this time that there was a work for her to do in connection with 
the cause of Temperance. 

In consequence of this decision she gave up all her engagements in 
1874 to connect herself with the Woman's Christian Temperance Union. ' 
She was immediately made corresponding secretary, discharging the 
duties of this oflSce until 1879, when she was elevated trom the position 
of secretary to that of president. 

In 1876 she assisted Dwight L. Moody in his evangelistic work and 




FRANCES WILLARD. 



FRANCES WILLARD. 133 

rendered very important service. During these years she travelled through 
the country, addressing legislatures and people's meetings in behalf of 
temperance and prohibition. She organized the Home Protection Move- 
ment, and sent an appeal from nearly two hundred thousand people to the 
Legislature of Illinois, asking for the Temperance ballot for women. She 
was always of the opinion that the great reforms needed in America 
would never be brought about until women were permitted to vote, hav- 
ing a voice not merely in domestic affairs, but in public measures for the 
welfare of the community. Some of her hardest work was done in favor 
of this project. 

On the death of her brother, Oliver A. Willard, in 1S79, she suc- 
ceeded him as chief editor of the Chicago Evening Post, but resigned soon 
afterward to devote all her time to the work which was dear to her heart, 
and in which she had exerted a wide and commanding influence. In 
t8S6 she accepted the leadership of the White Cross movement in the 
societies founded by herself, and obtained laws in many States for the 
protection of women. 

HELD OFFICES OF DISTINCTION. 

In 1888 she was made president of the American branch of the Inter- 
national Council of Women and of the World's Christian Union In 1892 
she visited England, and received an enthusiastic welcome from the 
friends of reform in that country. She was at the head of the Women's 
Committee of Temperance Meetings at the World's Fair in 1893. 

Miss Willard died February 17, 1898, and the pulpit and press of 
the land paid glowing tributes to her and her great work. 

QUESTIONS. 

What can you say of the success of women in what they undertake ? 
What were some of Miss Willard's traits of character ? What cause did she 
labor especially to promote? Where was she born and where was she edu- 
cated? Where did she first teach? When did she begin to devote all her 
time to the cause of temperance ? Of what organization was she mads 
President ? With whom did she labor in evangelistic work ? What 
can you say of her Home Protection Movement ? What daily paper did 
she edit for a while? Describe her visit to England in 1892. When did 
she die ? 



ELISHA KENT KANE 

THE ARCTIC EXPLORER. 




HAT a dismal place Greenland must be, said James. 
The people live in snow houses there. 

Shall I tell you about the Polar World ? said 
Uncle Frank, drawing up his easy chair. ■ 

The two girls were anxious to hear about Doctor 
Kane, who was a famous explorer, and Uncle Frank 
kindly consented to narrate his story. 

Voyages in the Polar regions of North America 
began in the first part of the seventeenth century, 
and from that time to this almost all the important nations of the world 
have been continually making efforts to reach the pole. From the first, 
the chief objects were to find water-ways around both continents connect- 
ing the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. The Northeast passage between 
Europe and Asia was successfully made by Russian and Danish expedi- 
tions ; while the Northwest passage, which was first attempted by Sebas- 
tian Cabot and the brothers Cortereal, was not actually found until about 
the year 1845, "^ ^^^ ^^^^ expedition of Sir John Franklin, who perished 
before he could make his discovery known. 

KANE'S FIRST POLAR EXPEDITION. 

It was in search of this brave Englishman that the United States 
undertook its first important Polar expedition, in which our greatest 
Arctic explorer, Blisha Kent Kane, made his first journey to the Arctic 
zone. 

The expedition was started by Mr. Henry Grinnell, a wealthy New 
York merchant, after Lady Franklin's appeal to our government to send 
out a search part}^ for her lost husband. Mr. Grinnell took up the enter- 
prise at once. He laid the plans, and oflFered two vessels, supplies, extra 
pay to the men who would volunteer to go, and means for about all the 
other expenses necessary to carry out the search and to make the expedi- 
tion of scientific value. Then he used his influence to get Congress to 
134 



EIvISHA KENT KANE. 



135 



take charge of it. Volunteer ofl&cers were called for from the navy, and at 
last everything was ready and placed in command of Lieutenant De 
Haven. Dr. Kane was one of the under-officers — of no higher rank than 
assistant surgeon. He was then a young man of thirty years, whose life 
so far had been a continual fight against ill-health. ' 

Although in the list of officers Dr. Kane started out as nothing more 
than an assistant surgeon in the Advance, when the expedition returned 
he had the honor- 
able record of hav- 
ing been the most 
active and able 
man in the party. 
Through all their 
journey — which 
began on the 2 ad 
of May, 1S50, and 
did not end until 
October of the 
next year — he was 
a. zealous worker, 
on the watch for 
the object of their 
search, and wide- 
awake to all dis- 
coveries of the re- 
gion through 
which they had 
passed. 

He kept a dr- elisha kent kane. 

careful account of what was done, what was seen, and all that happened 
in each day, records that were afterward published, and made a most valu- 
able and interesting history of the expedition. Several times during the 
journey Dr. Kane was very sick, but his great interest in all that was to 
be seen and done seemed to keep him from breaking down entirely. 

This expedition met some British relief ships in Lancaster Sound and 
accomplished a journe}^ as far north as a point in Baffin's Bay. They 
discovered many wonderful and important things about these regions that 
were before unknown to science, but they did not succeed in finding more 




136 ELISHA KENT KANE. 

than a very few traces of Sir John Franklin — the graves of three of his 
men, and a cairn or two and a small number of articles which some of 
them had lost or thrown away. 

This was but small success, but it gave hopes of more, so, a short 
time after the return, Mr. Grinnell offered the use of the Advance for 
another trip. This was put in charge of Dr. Kane, who had proved him- 
self one of the greatest men of the iirst expedition, and able to undertake 
much more than the duties of an assistant surgeon, great as they were at 
certain times, and nobly as he filled them. 

PLANS LAID FOR ANOTHER JOURNEY. 

In addition to his other work he had formed a plan by which he 
thought the search could be made more successful than it had been. He 
believed from the observations he had made that Greenland extended even 
farther to the north than the American continent ; he also thought that it 
was safer to travel by land than by water A\lien it Avas possible, and that 
by such a route the parties couid keep themselves supplied with food by 
hunting. 

After his return he spent several months in carefully thinking these 
plans out, in laying them before prominent people interested in the search 
for Franklin, and in lecturing about them and what had been seen in the 
first Grinnell Expedition. In this way he aroused a great deal of enthu- 
siasm in the project of another journey. Its chief object was to find the 
Sir John Franklin party, or at least to solve the m3'stery of their fate — 
for Dr. Kane still believed that some of the number must be living some- 
where among the remote Esquimaux villages. 

During all this time Dr. Kane's health was very bad; and when 
everything was ready he was hardl}^ able to write to Congress about it ; 
but he was too courageous to give up, and besides he knew he would be 
better in the colder climate. 

In this journey, as in the first one, Dr. Kane was historian. He has 
told us in his " Arctic Explorations " the full story of the expedition. 
From New York the Advance carried her party directly to Greenland, 
where their first sight of the cold country of the north was the " broad 
valleys, deep ravines, mountains, and frowning black and desolate cliffs " 
that burst into view from beneath the dense curtain of a lifting fog. Then, 
with icebergs in full view around tlit^ni, like cistlcs in a fairy tale, they 
worked their way along the western coast till they reached Smith's Sou ^x 



ELISHA KENT KANE- 



137 



Sometimes the commander would spend whole days in the " crow's 
nest " at the top of the mast, looking out for the best course for the vessel, 
and keenly watchiug for all of interest to their search. The .magnificent 
views which he saw from this lofty perch are often beautifully described 
in his book. In one place he says : " The midnight sun came out over 
the northern crest of the great berg, kindling variously-colored fires on 
every part of its surface, and making the ice around us one great piece of 
gem-work, blazing carbuncles and rubies, and molten gold." 




A. LIVELY START OF KANE'S SLEDGE EXPEDITION. 

After being tossed and crashed about for some time in the gales of 
Smith's Sound, it was found impossible to get the Advance through the 
ice to the shore ; so they left her there, and, fitting up ice-sledges, set out 
on their search for the lost explorers and also tc- see if better winter quar- 
ters could be found for the brig. The commander tells us in his book 
how both of these errands were in vain, and how they came back and pre- 
pared to pass the long cold Arctic night in Rensselaer Harbor. 

Their stores and provisions were carried to a storehouse on Butler's 
Island, and provision depots were also established at intervals further 
north. This work was finished just as the " long, staring day," which 



i88 



ELISHA KENT KANE. 



had clung to them more than two months, was drawing to a close, and 
the dark night was beginning to settle down upon them. It was only at 
midday that they could see to read the figures on the thermometer with- 
out a light. The hills seemed like huge masses of blackness, with faint 
patches of light scattered here and there, made by the snow. 

The faithful journal records these days and their doings, relating 




RESCUE OF THE PARTY SENT AHEAD WITH PROVISIONS. 

sorrowfully how the dogs fell sick from the darkness and the cold, and 
almost all of them died in a sort of insanity, ending in lockjaw ; and how 
great the travelers felt this loss when the glimmering light of day told 
them that spring had come, and the time would soon be for them to go on. 
The stations which the}^ had begun to set up in the fall were in- 
tended for provision depots, so that when the explorers went out on their 
sledge journeys to search for the Franklin party, they would not have to 
go back to the brig ever}^ time they needed supplies. Now, when the 
first ray of light appeared, Dr. Kane sent out a party with a load of pro\J- 



ELISHA KENT KANE. 139 

sions to establish anotlier depot still further to the north ; but they were 
overtaken by a gale and lost their way. They would have died if three 
of the men had not been able to grope their w^ay back to the vessel. 
Benumbed and exhausted, the}' stumbled into the brig unable to talk, 

HUDDLED TOGETHER AND BARELY ALIVE. 

But Dr. Kane knew their errand without the aid of words, and hur- 
ried to the rescue of the others, with the strongest men in the boat. 
Guided almost by instinct, he soon found them huddled together and 
barely alive. " We knew you would come " they said ; "' we were watch- 
ing for you." He and his comrades had had a long march to find them, 
and had taken no sleep meanwhile, so they were suifering themselves by 
this time ; but they did not stop to rest ; it had to be quick work to save 
their comrades' lives. They sewed them up in thick bags of skin, then, 
putting them in the sledges, thej^ started back to the brig. This was a 
journey of most terrible suffering from cold, hunger, and sleeplessness. 

After awhile nearly all the men v.-ere overcome with drowsiness and 
grew delirious ; thej^ reeled and stiimbled as they walked, and finally one 
sat down and declared be would sleep before he stirred another step. Dr. 
Kane let him sleep three minutes and then awakened him, and then 
another three minutes and awakened him, till he was quite rested. . This 
worked so well that all were allowed a few such short naps before the 
march was taken up again. But in spite of all their efforts, all but three 
— Dr. Kane and two others — gave out before they reached the brig. 

These poor fellows stumbled on to the last, so delirious that they 
could never remember how they finally got to the vessel. There they were 
at once taken care of and fresh men were sent out after the fallen ones, 
who were only five miles away. Two of the party that were rescued died 
from the terrible exposure. All the others got well. 

A few more such attempts and perilous searches were made with ill- 
success and great sickness, and another winter came and went. Then as 
the vessel was still so firmly frozen in the ice that it was impossible to 
get her out. Dr. Kane gave the order to leave her to her fate, and to pre- 
pare for an overland journey to Upernavik, a whaling station on the west 
coa?t of Greenland. This was thirteen hundred miles away- 
Mean while the people at home were watching for news of the expe- 
dition and when the second winter came on and Dr. Kane did not return, 
they began to feel anxious, and fitted out a relief expedition to go in search 



140 ELISHA KENT KANE. 

of Hm. It left New York at about the same time the disabled explorers 
started on their southward journey, and while it was sailing through the 
open seas of the North Atlantic, Kane and his men were struggling over 
ice and snow, all other thought lost but that of saving their lives. 

This was the most perilous journey of the whole expedition ; the toil 
and cold were severe emough, but besides these they had continually to 





START FOR THE PERILOUS JOURNEY HOMEWARD. 

cross gaps in the ice, in which they were drenched with water. When 
they reached a large opening and took to their boats — which they had 
carried over the ice — they were almost always in danger of being crushed 
in the floes. But worse than all these trials, was that of hunger. Their 
provisions ran so low that a fortunate shot at a seal was all that saved 
them from starving several times. 

At last they caught glimpses of open water, beyond the ice, and began 
to see signs of human beings ; a row-boat appeared, then a whaler, and 
finally they sighted the safe harbor of Upernavik. Here the rescue party 
found them, just as they were about to take passage in a Danish vessel 
for the Shetland Islands ; and the heroic little band of the Second Grin- 
nell Expedition reached New York on the nth of October, 1855. 



JAMES GORDON BHNNETT. U\ 

They liad not succeeded in finding any of the Franklin party, Avhich 
was a great disappointment to Dr. Kane and to all who had taken part ii 
the expedition ; but they had made such important discoveries and explo- 
rations that Congress awarded the gallant commander a gold medal ; the 
Royal Geographical Society of London gave him another, and the Queen 
another ; in fact, it i» said that probably no explorer and traveler, acting 
in a private capacity as such, has ever received greater tributes of respect. 

Dr. Kane was born in Philadelphia, February 20, 1S20. He died at 
Havana, Cuba, February :o, 1857. 

QUESTIONS. 

What was the object of the early Polar expeditions ? Wh}' did 
Doctor Kane make his first journey to the Arctic zone? Who paid the 
expenses of the expedition ? Can you give some account of Dr. Kane's 
second expedition ? How did Kane's party travel after leaving their ship ? 
Can you describe the rescue of the men sent to establish a station for 
provisions? What long journey did the explorers undertake? How 
were they rescued ? Where was Kane bom and when and where did he die r 



•TAMES GOEDON BENl^ETT 

AND HIS FAMOUS NEWSPAPER. 



OU must have noticed, said Uncle Frank, how many 
great successes have come up from ver}' poor begin- 
nings ; and how many men who have become re- 
nowned started out with j ust about nothing, and made 
their way by their own hard work. 

Yes, said James, " tall oaks from little acorns 
grow." 

A very apt saying in this connection, remarked 
Uncle Frank. I have in mind a story that shows it 
ro be true. It is the story of a great newspaper and the way it was begun. 
One could hardly believe it if he did not acquaint himself with the facts. 

James Gordon Bennett was born at New Mill, Keith, in Banffshire, 
on the north eastern coast of Scotland, about the year 1800. His relatives 




142 



JAMES GORDON BENNETT. 



were Roman Catholics, and he was brought up in a Catholic family of 
French origin. In his fourteenth year, having passed through the pri- 
mary schools of.his native place, he entered the Roman Catholic Seminary 
at Aberdeen, for the pui-pose of studying for the priesthood of that 
Church. During the two or three years which he passed here he was a 
close student, and acquired the basis of an excellent education. 

In 1817 he came into possession of a copy of Benjamin Franklin's 
account of his own life, which had been recently published in Scotland. 

The perusal of this little 
book changed the course of 
his whole life. It induced 
him to abandon all thoughts 
of the priesthood, and to try 
his fortune in the NewWorld, 
in which the great philoso- 
pher had succeeded so well 
before him. A little more 
than a year later he left 
Glasgow, and in May, 1819, 
being now about twenty 
years old, landed at Halifax, 
Nova Scotia. He had less 
than twenty-five dollars in 
his purse, knew no trade 
save that of a book-keeper, 
and had not a friend on this 
side of the ocean. 

He secured a few pupils 
JAMES GORDON BEiJNETT. in Halifax, and gave lessons 

in book-keeping, but his profits were so small that he determined to reach 
the United States as soon as possible. Accordingly he made his way along 
the coast to Portland, Maine, where he took passage for Boston in a small 
schooner. He found great difficulty in procuring employment, for Boston 
then, as now, offered but few inducements to new-comers. He parted with 
his last penny, and was reduced to the most pressing want. For two 
whole days he went without food, and a third day would doubtless have 
been added to his fast had he not been fortunate enough to find a shilling 
on the Common, with which he procured the means of relieving his hunger. 




JAMES GORDON BENNETT. 



143 



He no-w obtained a salesman's place in the bookstore of Messrs 
Wells and Lilly, who, upon discovering his fitness for the place, trans- 
ferred him to their printing-oflEce as proof-reader ; but his employers failed 
about two years after his connection with them began, and he was again 
thrown out of employment. 

From Boston he went, in 1822, to New York, where he obtained a 




JAMES GORDON BENNETT'S FIRST OFFICE. 

situation on a newspaper. Soon after his arrival in the metropolis he -"as 
offered, by Mr. Wellington, the proprietor of the Charleston Courier, tne 
position of translator from the Spanish, and general assistant. He 
accepted the offer, and at once repaired to Charleston. He remained there 
only a few months, bowever, and then returned to New York. 

After being employed on several newspapers, during which time by 
living very cheaply be had managed to save up a little money, he deter- 
mined to start a paper of his own. 

He rented a cellar in Wall Street, in whicb he c:,tablished his office, 
and on the 6th of May, 1835, issued the fiist number of The Morning 



144 JAMES GORDON BENNETT. 

Herald. His cellar was bare and poverty-stricken in appearance. It con- 
tained nothing but a desk made of boards laid ujjon flonr barrels. On 
one end of this desk lay a pile of Heralds ready for purchasers, and at the 
other sat the proprietor writing his articles for his journal and managing 
his business. 

Says Mr. William Gowans, the famous Nassau-Street bookseller : " T 
remember to have entered the subterranean office of its editor early in it: 
career, and purchased a single copy of the paper, for which I paid the sum 
of one cent United States currency. On this occasion the proprietor, 
editor, and vendor was seated at his desk, busily engaged ir. writing, and 
appeared to pay little or no attention to me as I entered. On making 
known my object in coming in, he requested me to put my money dov, n 
on the counter and help myself to a paper, all this time continuing his 
writing operations. The office was a single oblong underground room ; 
its furniture consisted of a counter, which also served as a desk, con- 
structed from two flour barrels, perhaps empty, standing apart from each 
other about four feet, with a single plank covering both ; a chair, placed 
in the center, upon which sat the editor busy at his vocation, with an ink- 
stand by his right hand ; on the end nearest the door were placed the 
papers for sale." 

Standing on Broadway now, at 34th Street, and looking at the palace 
from which the greatest and wealthiest newspaper in the Union sends 
forth its huge editions, one finds it hard to realize that this great journal 
was bom in a cellar, an obscure little penny sheet, with a poor man for its 
proprietor. Yet such was the beginning of the New York Herald. 

"WHERE THERE IS A WILL THERE IS A WAY." 

The prospect was not a pleasant one to contemplate, but Mr. Bennett 
did not shrink from it. He knew that it was in him to succeed, and he 
meant to do it, no matter through what trials or vicissitudes his path to 
fortune lay. Those who heard his expressions of confidence shook their 
heads sagely, and said the young man's air-castles would soon fade away 
before the blighting breath of experience. Indeed, it did seem a hopeless 
struggle, the effiart of this one poor man to raise his little penny sheet from 
its cellar to the position of " a power in the land." He was almost 
unknown. He could bring no support or patronage to his journal by the 
influence of his name, or by his large acquaintance, 

The old newspaper system, with its clogs and dead-weights, was still 



GENERAIy GEORGE G. MEADE. 145 

111 force, and as for newsboys to hawk the new journal over the great city, 
they were a race not then in existence. He had to fight his battle with 
poverty alone and without friends, and he did fight it bravely. He was 
his own clerk, reporter, editor, and errand boy. He wrote all the articles 
that appeared in The Herald, and many of the advertisements, and did all 
the work that was to be performed about his humble ofl&ce. 

The Herald was a small sheet of four pages of four columns each. 
Nearly every line of it was fresh news. Quotations from other papers 
were scarce. Originality was then, as now, the motto of the establish- 
ment. Small as it was, the paper was attractive. 

QUESTIONS. 

Who was James Gordon Bennett and where did he come from ? For 
what profession did he first study ? How did he come to emigrate to 
America ? How was he at first employed ? What can you say about the 
first office where the Herald was published? What was the character of 
the paper ? 

GEN. GEOKGE G. MEADE 

THE HERO OF GETTTSBURa. 



GREAT battle was that of Gettysburg, said Uncle 
Frank, and to-day I am going to give you an account 
of General Meade, who commanded the Union forces 
on that bloody field. Can any of you tell me where 
Gettysburg is r 

In the southern part of Pennsylvania, said James, 
and I would like to go there and see all the monu- 
ments that have been put up since the battle. 
^..-^=3=^ Perhaps you will, sometime, said Uncle Frank, 

[t is a place well worth visiting. 

General Meade was born at Cadiz, Spain, of American parents, in 
r8i6, and after graduating at West Point Military Academy in 1835, 
served bravely in the Mexican War. In August, 1861, near the begin- 
ning of our Civil War, he was appointed Brigadier-General of volunteers, 
.fought at the battles of Gaines' Mill and Malvern Hill, and commanded a 
10 




146 



GENERAL GEORGE G. MEADE. 



division at Antietam in 1862. After receiving the rank of Major-General 
in June, 1863, he was made Commander-in-Chief of the Army of the 
Potomac. He met the Confederate army soon afterward. 

The army of Lee, pouring into Pennsylvania for the invasion of the 
l^orth, was hurled back by the Union forces on the field of Gettysburg, 
and after a three-days' battle, beginning July i, 1863, was driven into 
Virginia, never again to cross the Potomac. For those three days the 
fate of the nation hung in the balance ; and only those who remember 

that fearful time can fully appreci- 
ate what is due to the brave com- 
mander of the Union armies. Gen- 
eral George G. Meade. 

The battle became fiercest on 
the third day, beginning with one 
of the most terrific cannonades of 
the war. It was Lee's greatest 
effort. After two days of dreadful 
but indecisive battle, he sent forth 
the flower of his army, under Gen- 
eral Pickett, to make that attack on 
Cemetery Hill which has passed 
into history as one of the greatest 
charges on record. 

Five thousand veterans of the 
Confederate army, tried in the fire 
of many a desperate battle, formed 
on Seminary Ridge, and moved 
with the precision of a machine 
across the valley which lay between the two armies. As the terrible can- 
nonade from the Union guns made gaps in their ranks, they were quickly 
closed up, and the column moved forward with swifter steps, but still in 
perfect order, toward the Union Centre on Cemetery Hill. 

The infantry defending the hill reserved their fire until the charging, 
column was within short range; and then burst forth an awful storm o 
bullets, before which the advance line of the Confederates withered. The 
second line, undismayed, rushed forward over the bodies of their com- 
rades, and were close upon the Union gunners at their pieces. For a 
time the force of the charge seemed irresistible; but now the attacking 




GENERAL GEORGE G. MEADE. 



GENERAL GEORGE G. MEADE. 147 

column became tlie centre of a fire from front and botli flanks, whicli was 
rapidly destroying them. The divisions of Wilcox and Pettigrew, which 
were supporting Pickett, had fallen back, and his column was left to meet 
the deadly storm alone. 

It was clearly impossible to hold their position, and the order was 
given to withdraw. Of the five thousand men who had advanced in such 
perfect order, thirty-five hundred were killed, wounded, or prisoners in 
the hands of the Union army. The remainder of the division fell_ back, 
shattered and broken, to the Confederate lines. The tide was turned. 
Meade had successfully defeated Lee's attack, and the Confederate army, 
after terrible losses, commenced its retreat through Maryland and across 
the Potomac never again to invade the North. 

In the campaigns before Richmond in 1864, Meade continued in com- 
mand of the Army of the Potomac, and Grant testified that he always 
found him " the right man in the right place." In 1866 he received the 
thanks of Congress for the skill and heroic valor with which, at Gettys- 
burg, he repulsed, defeated, and drove back the enemy, 

THE GREAT BATTLE OF THE WAR. 

"The country," says Colonel A. K. McClure, writing of "Our Unre- 
warded Heroes," •' has never done justice to General Meade as a military 
commander. The man who fought and won the battle of Gettysburg 
should have been the commander-in-chief of the armies of the Union, and 
held that position during life. It was the great battle of the war ; it was 
the Waterloo of the Confederacy, and the victory then achieved was won 
by the skill of the commanding general and the heroism of his army. 

" That army was the single hope of the nation, for had it been de- 
feated in a great battle, Washington and the wealth of our Eastern cities 
would have been at the mercy of the insurgents. It was an occasion for 
the most skillful and prudent generalship, united with the great courage 
essential to command successfully in such an emergency. All these high 
requirements General Meade fully met, and the most critical examination 
of the record he made in the Gettysburg campaign develops nothing but 
what heightens his qualities for the pectiliarly grave emergency that con- 
fronted him." 

General Meade did not receive the promotion to which many thought 
that his great services at the battle of Gettysburg entitled him ; " ana he 
went down to his grave,'' says Colonel McClure, " one of the sorrowing 



148 



INDEPENDENCE HALL. 



and unrewarded heroes of the war." He died in Philadelphia in Noveni- 
ijer, 1S72, in a house which had been presented to his wife by his coun- 
trymen. A fund of one hundred thousand dollars was, after his death 
subscribed for his family'. 

QUESTIONS. 

Where and when was General Meade born ? Where was he edu- 
cated ? At what battles did he fight before Gettysburg? What Confeder- 
ate commander did he defeat at Gettysburg ? What made the battle of 
Gett}'sburg such an important one ? Can you describe General Pickett's 
famous charge ? Where did General Meade die ? What provision was 
made for his family ? 

n^DEPENDENCE HALL 

AND THE OLD LIBERTY BELL. 




AN anyone tell me, asked Uncle Frank, who wrote the 
Declaration of Independence ? That made us a free 
and independent nation ; do you know who was the 
author of it ? 

Yes, spoke up Mabel. There was a committee 
of five to write it. Franklin was one, and Jefferson 
was another. I have always read that Jefferson wrote 
the Declaration. 

Quite right, said Uncle Frank, and the old Inde- 
pendence Hall, where it was signed, still stands in Philadelphia, and has 
recently been made to look just as it did in the great year of 1776. 

The buildine that stands in the centre of the brick structures on 
Chestnut street, between Fifth and Sixth streets, and has the tall spire, is 
the original State House, subsequently known as Independence Hall. It 
was provided that the ground to the south of the State House should 
remain " a public green and Avalk forever." It was not till 1816 that the 
city acquired the property by purchase, although the State House was 
erected in 173 1. In 1733 the Assembly ordered two offices to be built 
adjoining the State House. 

As early as 1736 the Mayor of the city, William Allen, gave a ban- 



INDEPENDENCE HALL. 



149 



quet to citizens and strangers in the city in the State House, and in 
November, 1752, in celebration of the birthday of George II, a ball was 
given there, and other entertainments were given within the building at 
various times, until September of 1774, when the members of the Conti 
nental Congress were guests of the gentlemen of Philadelphia at a dinner 
there. This is believed to have been the last occasion of a public social 
festivity in the building. 




INDEPENDENCE HALL. 

Built in 1731 and used as a State House, and afterward as a meetins; place for the Continental 

Congress. The Declaration of Independence was adopted and signed in this building. 

The Continental Congress met in the east room on the lower floor, 
Independence Hall, and it was there that the Declaration of Independence 
was adopted on the Fourth of July, 1776. On July S the Declaration was 
read publicly from the platform of an observatory erected on the Square 
by John Rittenhouse to observe the transit of Venus. 

What is the transit of Venus ? James asked. 

It is the passage of the planet Venus across the face of the sun, said 
Uncle Frank. It is always an occasion of interest not only to students of 
astronomy, but to many others. But what I was about to say was that 
what are called the articles of confederation, ^y which the States wer- 



150 



INDEPENDENCE HALL. 




speaker's chair and desk 

on which declaration 

was signed. 



formed into a Union, were signed by delegates of eight States in Inde 
pendence Hall, and until June 21, 1783, Congress occupied that chamber. 
In 1802 a museum was established in the second story of the build- 
ing, having relics and historical papers that were interesting to the pub- 
lic, and in the yard were animals in cages, a kind of zoological garden. 

The museum remained in the building until 
1829. I^ ^^75 the west room on the first floor 
was made a National Museum and place of 
deposit for relics. 

The signing of this declaration by the 
American Congress was a great event. " That 
firm band of patriots well knew that, in aflax- 
ing their signatures, they were, in the e3'es 
of England, committing the very act of trea- 
son and rebellion ; and that, in case of her 
final success, it was their own death-warrant 
which they signed. Their countrymen felt 
in a manner most forcible that there was now no receding from the con- 
test, without devoting to death these their political fathers, who had thus 
fearlessly made themselves the organs of declaring what was equally the 
determination of all. Thus it was now the general feeling that the die 
was cast, and nothing remained but — " lib- 
erty or death." 

Congress was in session in the hall of 
the State House in Philadelphia when the 
Declaration of Independence was adopted. 
In the spire of this venerable building hung 
a bell, inscribed with the words of Scripture: 
" Proclaim liberty throughout all the land 
unto all the inhabitants thereof." On the 
morning of the fourth of July vast crowds 
assembled around the building, as it was 
known that Congress would that day take 
definite action upon the Declaration. The , 
bell-ringer stationed himself in the tower, 
ready to proclaim the good news the moment 
it should be announced to him, and had 
Dosted his little son at the door of the hall 




OLD LIBERTY BELL. 



IIM INDEPENDENCE HALL. 

to await tlie signal of the door-keeper, who had agreed to give immediate 
notice as soon as a decision should be reached. 

When the announcement of the vote was made the door-keeper gave 
the signal and the boy ran quickly to the tower. The old man heard him 
coming, and clutched the bell-rope with a firm grasp. The next instant 
the glad cry of the boy's voice was heard. " Ring I ring ! " he cried, and 
then the deep, loud tones of the bell went rolling out of the tower, and 
were answered with a mighty shout from the assembled throng without. 
The declaration was received by all the States and by the army with 
enthusiasm. 

There is a common impression that the old Liberty Bell was cracked 
on the day it rang out liberty for the American people. This, however, 
is a mistake. The bell was cracked in 1835, while tolling for Chief 
Justice Marshall. It is one of the sacred relics of the nation, is an object 
of great interest to all Americans, and is always regarded with a feeling 
akin to veneration. 

The proposition has often been made to have the bell re-cast, in order 
that it might be rung again. No tinkering, however, with this national 
relic will ever be permitted. The more common feeling is that it should 
remain as it is. In early days relic hunters, who have unfortunately 
existed in every generation, used to break off pieces from the edge of the 
bell and carry them away as mementoes. If this ruthless practice had 
not been stopped, nothing by this time would have been left of the old 
bell ; it would have been battered to pieces and carried ofiF. 

QUESTIONS. 

Who wrote the Declaration of Independence ? In what city does 
Independence Hall stand ? When was it erected ? What public celebra- 
tions took place in this hall ? In what room did the Continental Congress 
meet? In what room was the Declaration of Independence signed? What 
is a transit of Venus ? When was Independence Hall used as a museum? 
When was the Declaration of Independence adopted ? Describe the ring- 
ing of the bell on the 4th of July, i776> 



ADMIRAL FARRAGUT 



THE G-REAT NATAX, COMMAKDER. 




^y^r^ — . Y COUSIN has been writing me about one of our famous 
ships, said Mabel. It is the battleship Oregon, and 
he had a chance to go on boawl and see all the diflfer 
ent parts of the vessel. 

A wonderful ship it is, said Uncle Frank, and we 
have had many famous vessels in our navy. 

And great commanders, too, said James. I wish 
you would tell us about Farragut. He was one of the 
-bravest. 

He was the great Admiral of the Civil War, said 
Uncle Frank, a resolute soldier, a brave seaman, and a noble gentleman. 
When he was a lad eleven years old, he first entered the country's service 
on board Captain Porter's famous Essex, in the War of 1812. He was 
only a midshipman when this vessel captured His Majesty's sloop of war, 
the Alert, but he behaved so well during the great excitement of the short 
fight, that the captain reported him after the capture and said that his 
bravery and good service deserved promotion, although the boy was too 
young to receive it. He needed more education and his great friend, 
the captain, secured a place for him in a school at Chester, Pennsylvania, 
where he could study naval and military science. 

GOES ON A CRUISE TO THE MEDITERRANEAN. 

After about a year he was sent with a number of other students to 
the Mediterranean in a naval ship. On this cruise a strong friendship 
grew up between young Farragut and one of the teachers, a Mr. Fulsome, 
who was soon after appointed Consul to Tunis and obtained permission to 
take his favorite pupil with him. Here they studied history together and 
talked over the deeds of the great Hannibal as they walked over the very 
place where that warrior had promised his father that he would never lay 
down his arms against Rome. 

Farragut remained at Tunis a year ; then was appointed a lieutenant 

153 



154 



ADMIRAL FARRAGUT. 



in the navy, and ordered to the West Indies. Three years afterward he 
ivas sent to take charge of the navy yard at Norfolk, Virginia. There he 
married and remained for a number of years. He spent all his spare time 
in studying, not only naval science, but several of the languages. By and 

b}', when a 
still more im- 
portant place 
was in need 
o f a CO ni- 
mander, Far- 
ragut was 
named as be- 
ing better 
fitted to take 
charge of it 
than any man 
in the service. 
So he was 
soon sent out 
to the Mare 
Island navy 
yard in Cali- 
fornia, where 
he remained 
from 1854 to 
1858. 

During 
the exciting 
days after the 
declaration of 
the Civil 
War, he was 
at his home 
again in Nor- 

ADMIRAt DAVID G. FARRAGUT. f^]-^ aUxioUS- 

ly waiting to see which wa)^ his State (Tennessee), would go, but when it 
seceded he could not follow. To him the right side was that of the Union. 
He could not fight against the flag he had served for almost fifty years 




ADMIRAIv FARRAGUT. 155 

So when the news came that the Virginia Legislature had decided to 
unite with the Confederation and cut loose from the Union, Farragut 
hastily packed up a few of his household goods, put a brace of pistols in 
his pocket, and left Norfolk with his wife and child. He came North, 
found a quiet home for his family at Hastings-on-the-Hudson, and leaving 
them there went on to Washington, to offer his services to the country. 

IN COMMAND OF SEVENTEEN GREAT WAR-SHIPS. 

At that time all the ships of the United States Nav}'' were away in 
foreign ports, so the Government could give him nothing to do, but they 
told him to wait in readiness for the first charge the}^ could give him. It 
was nine months before this came. Then he was put in command of 
seventeen great war-ships and ordered to capture New Orleans. 

This was no easy matter, for New Orleans was very strongly defended. 
In Revolutionary times two great forts, Jackson and St. Philip had been 
built, one on each side of the Mississippi River, sixty miles below the 
city. They had kept the British out of the " Father of Waters " eighty 
years before, and still they stood in strength and fastness. Farragut was 
told that several ofl&cers in the French and English navies — good judges 
of defences — had said that it would be impossible for any fleet to pass 
these forts. He replied : " It may be so, but I was sent here either to 
take these forts or pass them, and I mean to trj-." Among the officers in 
the fleet was Commodore Porter, son of the old captain under whom Farra- 
gut had served when he first entered the navy. 

Together th^ devised and carried out a plan for disguising the 
squadron before setting sail for the forts. This was a trick that old Com- 
mander Porter iised often to try, and both the younger commanders were 
apt pupils. They painted the outside of the gunboats with mud so that 
they looked much like the muddy ground they were passing and could 
not be easily seen in the distance. The masts they twined with foliage 
like the forests along the river, and as they came nearer to the forts they 
bound marsh-weeds to the sides of the vessels. 

At last they were within firing distance of Fort Jackson and turned 
their great guns toward it. The boats kept up almost a continuous fire 
upon the fort for a week, and still it showed no signs of surrendering. 
Then Farragut decided to try the dangerous task of running past it. He 
ordered everything to be got ready, and at two o'clock in the morning of 
April 24th, he gave the signal for starting — two red lights hoisted on the 



156 ADMIRAL FARRAGUT, 

mast of his flag-ship, the Hartford. A loud roar from the cannon of the 
fort soon told them that they had been discovered. Two bright beacons 
had been kept burning on shore, throwing a strong light across the river, 
through which it was impossible for the ships to pass without being 
clearly seen. 

As soon as their prows touched the clear, shining path across the 
waters, alarm was given. Signals blazed up from all points along the 
shore and every gun of the fort began to pour out its deadly fire, while 
the fleet, keeping steadily on, poured out their shot and shell as fast as 
they could, till the whole place was shrouded with volumes of smoke. 
Fire rafts came down upon them and set the Hartford ablaze, but the ac- 
tive company of firemen put the fire out, and the fleet was past the fort. 

But they were not yet safe, for they suddenly found themselves in a 
perfect nest of fire-rafts and gunboats, among which was the terrible iron- 
clad ram, Manassas. A desperate battle of an hour and a half settled the 
question, the Southern fleet was defeated ; thirteen of Farragut's vessels 
had passed the forts, and the way to New Orleans was open. 

TERRIBLE BATTLE AND AWFUL SIGHT. 

This was one of the most terrible naval battles ever fought. Farra- 
gut said : "It was one of the most awful sights and events I ever saw or 
expected to see. The smoke was so dense that it was only now and then 
you could see anything but the flash of the cannon and the fire-ships or 
rafts." 

He moved on to New Orleans directly, and forced the surrender of the 
city, completing the main object of his expedition. This was, altogether, 
one of the most important victories of the war, and Congress rewarded the 
leader by creating for him the office of Vice-Admiral of the United States 
Navy. 

The day after the surrender he sailed on up the Mississippi to Vicks- 
burg and stormed that place, but it was too strong to be carried without 
help from land forces, so he went down the river again and put up at Pen- 
sacola for repairs. As soon as the fleet was again ready he crossed the 
Gulf of Mexico, took Galveston, Corpus Christi, and the Sabine Pass, and 
broke the power of the Southern navy in that vicinity. 

Another order to go to Vicksburg was given in March of the next 
year. This time he went to work with good aid on land, for General 
Grant's forces were already drawn up near by. Two vessels were carried 



ADMIRAL, FARRAGUT. 157 

past the fort below the city and thus beset by a great general on land and 
the vice-admiral on the river, General Pembertou was compelled to yield 
the city. 

In midsummer the Government sent Farragut's fleet to take Mobile 
and stop the way of the blockade-runners who were planning to get up 
into the Southwest territory through Mobile Ba3^ This was guarded by 
Fort Morgan, Fort Gaines, and a powerful iron-clad ram and three gun. 
boats, that lay a little further in the bay. Farragut's fleet of fourteen 
wooden steamers and gunboats and four iron-clad monitors, passed Fort 
Morgan and met the Confederate vessels in one of the fiercest naval bat- 
lies on record. 

The commander was lashed to the rigging of the Hartford, where he 
could see everything that took place and direct the terrible conflict which 
only closed with the Confederates' surrender. In a few days after this 
victory the Union armies took the forts, and the blockade-runners were 
effectually shut out. For this another new rank was created in the navy 
making him a full admiral. He made two voyages after the war, but from 
the second one he never returned home. 

PROMOTED TO THE RANK OF ADMIRAL. 

Farragut was promoted to the rank of Admiral July 25th, 1866, and 
held a higher rank than any other officer of the United vStates nav}^ It 
was felt by everybody that this rank was due to him on account of the 
important services he had rendered to his country. He was a great com- 
mander ; all his officers had the greatest respfect for him ; he was willing 
to stand in the face of danger, and never asked anybody to go where he 
was not willing to go himself. 

Admiral Farragut was born near Knoxville, Tennessee, July 5, 1801. 
He died at Portland, Maine, August 14, 1870. 

QUESTIONS. 

How did Farragut first enter his country's service ? Where did he 
study for the navy ? Where was he sent then ? What position did he 
hold in California ? When the Civil War broke out what did he do ? Can 
you describe his battle at New Orleans ? At Mobile ? In what part of 
his ship was he at the battle of Mobile ? Where and when was he born, 
and where did he die? 



PATEICK HENEY 

THE OEATOE OF THE EEYOLTJTION. 




OU are late this moniing, said Elsie to Uncle Frank ; 
we have been waiting twelve minutes. 

Is it as long as that ? said Uncle Frank. But I 
could not help it. A gentleman called to see me on 
important business, and I could not get away ; so you 
will have to excuse me. 

We Avill, said James, but we young folks will 
have to keep an eye on Uncle Frank to see that he is 
on time. All joined in a hearty laugh, and Uncle 
Frank said he intended to tell the young people of Patrick Henry. 

The rich and most loyal commonwealth of Virginia was not so ready 
to resist the oppression of Great Britain as the leading Colonies of the 
North. The Legislature — or House of Burgesses — had almost reached 
the close of its session in 1765 without taking any decided measures 
against British taxation, when, one day, a tall and slender young man, 
unknown to many in that splendid assembly, arose to speak. It was 
Patrick Henry, a new member, and a lawyer from Louisa County. 

AMAZED AT THIS RAW LAWYER. 

The rich planters were amazed and indignant, that this raw lawyer, 
unpracticed in statesmanship, should be so bold as to address the house 
upon so important a subject. But Henry had something to say, and soon 
held the attention of every member. He offered a brief set of resolutions, 
setting forth that the Burgesses and the Governor were the only ones who 
had the right and power to lay taxes and imports on the people, and 
that all acts of Parliament affecting the rights of the Colonies were void. 

This was entirely too bold for a large number of the members and 
raised a great storm, but Henry avouM not yield. The old walls runj/ 
with the powerful enthusiasm and mighty force of his words, and even 
the most patriotic were surprised when he blazed forth : " Cassar had his 

Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the Third "- 

158 



PATRICK HENRY. 



159 



" Treason ! Treason I " broke in the presiding officer and the members, 
after which the orator finished in a calmer tone, " may profit by their ex- 
ample. If this be treason, make the most of it." 

The resolutions were adopted, and from that time forth Patrick Henry 
has stood among the first and greatest of American orators. He was a 
zealous patriot, and became a power in the Colonies. He took a leading 
part among Virginians in all the important affairs that followed this 
stand against the King, keeping up his profession meanwhile with what 
would have been wonderful ability for a man far better educated than he ; 
for Patrick Hen- 
ry was not a 
scholar and a 
gentleman born 
and bred, as 
were many of 
his great com- 
panions. 

He was 
about thirty-two 
years old at this 
time, and, until 
two years before had made a ' 
failure at everything he tried 
to do, excepting at idling away 
his time, hunting and fishing, 
scraping a violin, playing on a 
flute, following the hounds, and 
telling stories. When he was 
about twenty-five years old he made an effort toward becoming a lawyer, 
and although he was admitted to the bar, lie had so little to do in his 
profession that he stayed at home mostly and helped about the tavern 
at Hanover Coiirt-House, kept by his father-in-law, who also supported 
Henry's wife and family. 

But one day he was called to court \.o take a part in a case called the 
'' Parson's Cause," which some more important lawyer had refused. His 
opponent was one of the prominent men of those times, and the plaintiffs 
smiled at their already assured success when this awkward, backward, ill- 
mannered man rose to speak for the other side. But sviddenl}' his timidity 




PATRICK HENRY MAKING HIS FIRST PL,EA 
IN COURT. 



160 PATRICK HENRY. 

and bashfulness passed away; lie seemed to ctange completely befoie 
their eyes ; his form swelled out ; and his clear, forcible words astonished 
every hearer. The plaintiffs left their seats under the burning storm of 
his words, and the jury returned them a verdict of one cent damages. 

The people grew so enthusiastic that they lifted the young man on 
their shoulders and carried him out of the Court-House in triumph. He 
was from that day an eminent man in his profession ; plenty of business 
and money began to come to him now, and in a couple of years he was 
elected to the Virginia House of Burgesses, where, in his first session, he 
made the great speech which " set the ball of the Revolution rolling." 

HE W^ENT TO WORK IN REAL EARNEST. 

Yet, all this was but a foreshadowing of what he was to do. Now 
that he had once set himself to work in real earnest, the wonderful powers 
of his mind began to show themselves ; friends and strangers were sur- 
prised with his wisdom and power of speech. At that time our country 
was sorely in need of men fearless and eloquent, with hearts full of the 
love of justice and liberty — men who had seen and studied people, who 
knew the lecords of history, and the laws that had made nations great or 
caused them to fall. It was just such a man that this rolling stone, this 
unsuccessful student, farmer, and merchant had been preparing himself 
to be without knowing it. He was as much surprised as any one at what 
had been hidden within him so long. 

But now that he knew, he labored with all his strength to make the 
most of himself. The bad manners, slovenly dress, and the idle, careless 
habits that marred his youth were corrected. Always honorable, he now 
gained the reputation of being also prompt and faithful in all matters of 
business. He was a man who never drank liquor or used bad language. 
His companions loved and respected him. He was kind and hospitable to 
friends and strangers, generous to his neighbors, and although it is said 
that he was jealous of his rivals, there is no actual record of it ; but there 
is record of his having spoken heartily in praise of them more than once. 

The great man's face sometimes looked stern and severe, with its 
deep lines and the grave, thoughtful expression upon the high forehead 
and about the resolute mouth and chin. His complexion was dark and 
his cheeks had no color in them. His nose was long and finely shaped, 
and the full eyebrows were very often drawn together, but when he smiled 
a bright sunshine seemed to spread over his countenance, lighting up the 



PATRICK HENRY. 161 

deep-set blue-gray eyes that seemed quite dark from the long, heavy 
lashes, and completely changing his mouth. Those who knew him well 
could almost tell whether he was pleased or displeased, and just how 
much, by the expression of his lips. 

In the Virginian Convention of March, 1775, which was held in 
Richmond, his greatest blaze of oratory came out. All now looked upon 
him as the leading spirit of the Assembly, but when he presented resolu- 
tions to organize military forces and take an open stand against Great 
Britain by putting tlie Colony in a state of defence, there was a strong 
opposition raised. William Wirt tells us that Henry answered these fal- 
terers in the stirring words : " There is no retreat but in submission and 
slavery. Our chains are already forged. Their clanking may be heard 
in the plains of Boston. The next gale that sweeps from the North will 
bring the clash of resounding arms. I know not what course others may 
take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death ! " 

VIRGINIA DECLARES FOR LIBERTY AND RIGHT. 

Without a vote against it, the resolution was adopted; and when, in 
less than a month, the news from the North told of the fights at Lexing- 
ton and Concord, Virginia was ready to join in with the New England 
Colonies for freedom, liberty and right. Patrick Henry was bom at 
Studley, Virgfinia, May 29, 1736. He died in the same State, at his coun- 
try-seat, Red Hill, in Charlotte Count}', June 6, 1799. 

Remember, said Uncle Frank, that Patrick Henry had to overcome 
many discouragements. In early life he failed as a storekeeper and as a 
farmer, making out very poorly in both of these pursuits. He then 
studied law, and, having great ability, all that was wanted was an oppor- 
tunity to show his oratorical power. No orator of the Revolution had 
greater fame. He was a patriot and a lover of his country's cause from 
first to last. 

QUESTIONS. 

What was Patrick Henry's profession ? What effect did his speech 
have on the Burgesses of Virginia ? What did he say when accused of 
treason ? What were his habits in early life ? Can you describe his first 
plea made in court ? What effect did his eloquence have upon the Conti- 
nental Congress ? Where was he born and where did he die ? 
11 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN 

THE PRESERYER OF THE UNION. 




HEN will you tell us about President Lincoln ? asked 
James, as the company iveiit to the summer house for 
their morning talk. 

I will tell you to-day, said Uncle Frank. He was 
one of the greatest and noblest men of modern times, 
and people everywhere will always think so. He was 
the sixteenth President of the United vStates, and was 
inaugurated at Washington on the fourth of March, 
1861. 

What is inaugurated? said Mabel. 

When a President takes the oath of office and begins to discharge the 
duties of President, he is said to be inaugurated. 

As it was feared that an attempt would be made to prevent Mr. Lin- 
coln's inauguration, the city of Washington was held by a strong body of 
regular troops under General Scott, and the Piesident-elect was escorted 
from his hotel to the Capitol by a military force. No effort was made to 
interfere with the ceremonies, and the iuauguration passed oflF quietly. 

BOYHOOD OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 

The new President was in his fifty-third year, and was a native of 
Kentucky. When he was but eight years old his father removed to Indi- 
ana, and the boyhood of the future President was spent in hard labor upon 
the farm. Until he reached manhood he continued to lead this life, and 
during this entire period attended school for only a year. 

At the age of twenty-one he removed to Illinois, where he began life 
as a storekeeper. Being anxious to rise above his humble position, he 
determined to study law. He was too poor to buy the necessary books, 
and so borrowed them from a neighboring lawyer, read them at night and 
returned them in the morning. His genial character, great good nature 
and love of humor won him the friendship of the people among whom he 
tesided, and they elected him to thelower house of the Legislature of Illinoi*. 
162 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



163 



He now abandoned his mercantile pursuits, and began the practice of 
the law, and was subsequently elected a representative to Congress from 
the Springfield District. He took an active part in the politics of his 
State, and in 1858 was the candidate of tlia Republican Party for United 
States Senator. At this time he engaged in a series of debates in various 
parts of the State with Senator Douglas, the Democratic candidate for re- 
election to the same position. This debate was remarkable for its bril- 
liancy and intellectual vigor, and brought him prominently before the 
whole country, and opened the way to his nomination for the Presidency. 

In person he was tall and ungain- 
ly, and in manner he was rough and 
awkward, little versed in the refine- 
ments of societ}'. He was a man, how- 
ever, of great natural vigor of intellect, 
and was possessed of a fund of strong 
common sense, which enabled him to 
see at a glance through the shams by 
which he was surrounded, and to pur- 
sue his own aims with singleness of 
heart and directness of purpose. , 

He had sprung from the ranks of 
the people, and he was never false to 
them. He was a simple, unaffected, ^ 
kind-hearted man ; anxious to do his 
duty to the whole country ; domestic >^ 
in his tastes and habits ; and faithful 
in every place he occupied. He was 
fond of humor, and overflowed with it ; 
finding in his " little stories " the only relaxation he ever sought from 
the heavy cares of the trying position to which he was called. 

Mr. Lincoln was elected by a plurality of the popular vote. That is, 
he had a larger vote than any other candidate, although he did not ha\'e 
more votes than all the others put together. This secured foi him eigh- 
teen States. These States were entirely in the North. 

The States which cast their votes for Breckenridge, Bell and Doug- 
las, the other candidates, were entirely' slave-holding. The division thus 
made was alarming. It was the first time in the h'story of the Republic 
that a President had been elected by the votes of a single section of the Union, 




ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



164 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



The state in whicli the Presidential election left the country, was 
alarming. The excitement was higher than it had been before the strug- 
gle at the polls. The Gulf States had declared at an early period of the 
political campaign that they would withdraw from the Union in the event 
of the election of a Republican President. The people of the South gen- 
erally regarded the result of the election as an evidence of the determined- 

tion of the North- 
ern States to use 
the power of the 
Federal govern- 
ment to destroy 
the institution of 
slavery. The dis- 
union leaders ex- 
erted themselves 
to deepen this 
conviction, and 
to arouse the 
fears of the 
South. 

The result 
was that the 
Southern States 
left the Union 
and the great 
Civil War follow- 
ed. After Mr. 

LINCOLN MONUMENT, FAiRMOUNT PARK, PHILADELPHIA. Lincoln had been 
President four j^ears he was elected again. This was a great offence to many 
of his enemies and they hatched a plot to take his life. The ringleader of 
this band was John Wilkes Booth, a native of Maryland. Their first idea 
was to make Mr. Lincoln a prisoner, but not being able to do this they re- 
solved to take his life. On the evening of the 14th of April, 1865, he was 
attending a place of amusement in Washington when Booth, who had 
admittance to the theatre on account of his being an actor, approached 
him from behind without being noticed and placing a pistol within a few 
inches of the head of the President, shot him. The ball entered his brain 
and he sank slightly forwarc" without uttering a sound. He continued to 




ADMIRAL DEWEY. 



165 



breathe for several hours, but was totally unconscious and died tbe next 
morning at half past seven o'clock. 

Booth was killed while resisting arrest and the other conspirators 
were caught and hanged. 

QUESTIONS. 

When was Mr. Lincoln inaugurated ? What is the meaning of " in- 
auguration ?" Why was he guarded on the way from the White House 
to the Capitol ? What can you tell me of Mr. Lincoln's early history ? 
What was his personal appearance ? What were some of his peculiarities? 
What can you say of his fund of humor ? How many States voted for 
him ? What great struggle followed his election ? How did Mr. Lincoln 
lose his life ? What became of the conspirators ? 



ij»% 



ADMIRAL DEWEY 



THE HERO OF MANTLA. 



UR countrj^ has had some famous naval heroes, said 
Uncle Frank, and to-day I will tell you of Admiral 
Dewey. 

I remember all about the battle of Manila, said 
James, and I think I could tell exactly when it took 
place. 

If you get it wrong, said Elsie, I believe I could 
correct you. When was it? 

On the first day of May, 1898, said James ; isn't 
that right. Uncle Frank ? 

That is correct, said Uncle Frank, and I am glad you remember. 
Hear, now, what I have to tell you about him. 

Admiral George Dewey, the hero of the great naval battle of Manila, 
is an old warrior of the navy, who got his christening of fire aboard the 
old steam sloop Mississippi, under Farragut, in the early days of the 
Civil War. He belongs in Vermont, and was born at Montpelier, De- 
cember 26th 1837. He was appointed from that State to the Naval 




166 



ADMIRAT. DEWEY. 



Academy at Annapolis, Mar3laiKl, iu September, 1854. Four years later, 
when he was graduated, he was sent aboard the steam frigate Wabash for 
a cruise in the Mediterranean. Dewey got his commission as lieutenant 
on April 19, 1861, eight days after Fort Sumter was fired upon, and he 
was immediately assigned to join the Mississippi and do duty with the 
West Gulf squadron. 

He was on the Mississippi when she took part with Farragut's other 
vessels in forcing an entrance to the Mississippi river, and again when 

the fleet ran the gaunt- 
let of fire from the forts 
below New Orleans in 
April, 1862, and forced 
the surrender of that 
city. The ship he was 
in belonged to Captain 
Bailey's division of the 
fleet Avhich attacked 
Fort St. Philip. 

The hottest fight 
that the Mississippi ever 
engaged in was her last 
one, and this perhaps 
was as hot as any of the 
war. In March, 1863, 
the fleet tried to run by 
the Confederate batter- 
ies at Port Hudson. 
Some of the ships got 
as far as a narrow part 
of the channel, where 
the}?^ met land batteries almost muzzle to muzzle, and then they were 
forced to retreat. The Mississippi did not get as far as this. A foggy 
day had been chosen for the attempt, and this was soon made more ob- 
scure by the smoke of battle, and amid this the Mississippi lost her bear- 
ings and ran ashore. 

Her officers found that she had struck just under the guns of a bat- 
tery in the middle of the line of fortifications, and one of the strongest of 
the lot. In half an hour 250 shots struck the vessel, and she was riddled 




ADMIRAL GEORGE DE^VEY — HERO OF MANILA. 



^DMIRAL DEWEY. 167 

from end to end. There was no chance to hold her, and her crew took to 
their boats and landed on the opposite side of the river, after setting her 
oil fire. Soon, lightened by the loss of the crew and by the fire, she 
drifted off, and blazing and sal\t.ting with bursting shells, she drifted 
down the river, until finally the fire reached her magazines, and her career 
was ended in one great explosion. 

Dewey was next attached to the steam gunboat Agawan, of the North 
Atlantic blockading squadron, and he took part in the two attacks made 
on Fort Fisher in December, 1864, and January, 1865. In March, 1865, 
he got his commission as lieutenant commander, and as such served on 
the famous old Kearsage and on the Colorado, the flagship of the Euro- 
pean squadron, until 1868, when he was sent for service to the Naval 
Academy at Annapolis, Maryland. 

PROMOTED TO THE RANK OF CAPTAIN. 

His first command was in 1870, when he had the Narragansett doing 
special service. He became a commander in April, 1872, and, still on the 
Narragansett, was engaged in making surveys of the Pacific until 1876, 
when he was made a lighthouse inspector, and later the secretary of the 
Lighthouse Board. He commanded the Juniata on the Asiatic station in 
1882-83, and in September, 1884, was made a captain and put in charge 
of the Dolphin, then bran-new and one of the four vessels which formed 
the original " white squadron." 

The following year he was sent to command the flagship Pensacola, 
of the European squadron, and he stayed there until 1888, when he became 
Chief of the Bureau of Equipment and Recruiting, with the rank of com- 
modore. This place he held until 1893, when he was made a member of 
the Lighthouse Board. He got his commission as commodore on Feb- 
ruary 28, 1896, and at about the same time was made president of the 
Board of Inspection and Survey. This place he held until he was put in 
command of the Asiatic station, in January, 1897. 

Admiral Dewey's masterly dash upon Manila, the capital of the 
Philippine Islands, on the ist of May, 1898, was one of the most daring 
and successful expeditions which naval history has had to chronicle. The 
quickness of the movement, conducted with so much vigor by its gallant 
t^ommander, was no less a surprise to the world when it first heard of it 
than were the skill and daring of the attack and the thoroughness with 
which the enemy were beaten. 



168 



COMMODORE DECATUR. 



The achievement was a grand triumph for American strategy and 
seamanship and has won deserved fame for Admiral Dewey and his com- 
mand. In spite of inferior ships, poor gunners, and without efl&cient aid 
from the shore defences, the Spanish admiral and seamen did all that men 
could. Not an ensign was lowered from a single masthead ; all stood 
manfully by their guns until their vessels took flame, were blown up, 
sank with their entire crews, or were driven to shoal water. 

Of the whole Spanish fleet nothing of any account was left after the 
brave Dewey had made an end of his work. 

QUESTIONS. 

When was the naval battle of Manila fought ? Where and when was 
Admiral Dewey born ? Under what commander did he serve in the Civil 
War ? On what sloop ? Can you describe the fight in which the sloop 
Mississippi was lost ? What positions did Admiral Dewey afterwards oc- 
cupy ? When was he given command of our Asiatic squadron I Can 



3'ou describe the battle of Manila ? 
"^he Spaniards ? 



What can you say of the heroism of 



*% 



COMMODORE DECATUR 

AND HIS GALLANT EXPLOCTS. 



WAY back in the early part ot the century, said Uncle 
Frank, we had great naval commanders, as well as in 
the Civil War and our war with Spain. I have 
already told you of some of them, and to-day I wish 
to describe another. Have you ever heard of Stephen 
Decatur? 

Only as I have read some brief mention of him 
in my American history, said Mabel. James and 
Elsie said the same. 
He became a famous naval hero, said Uncle Frank, in our little Tri- 
politan war. At the beginning of the century there were many American 
vessels upon the seas, carrying goods to all parts of the world ; and they 
had to share the fate of the ships of other nations from the pirates of the 
Mediterranean Sea. For several of the Mohammedan States upon the 




COMMODORE DECATUR. 



169 



northern shore of Africa— Tripoli, Tunis, Algeria, and Morocco — made a 
business of robbing all the passing merchant vessels they could "catch- 
unless they were well paid for letting them alone. 




DECATUR COMPELLING THR; DEY OP ALGIERS TO SIGN A TREATY. 

After the Americans hid made peace with England they began to 
think about the right of p4ying robbers to let them alone. So, in 1803, 
when Tripoli asked for a larger sum than usual, it was refused. Of 



ITO COMiMODORE DECATUR. 

course the angry little State began at once to capture our vessels, thinking 
to bring us to terms. But still President Jefferson refused, and, instead 
of the money, he sent out the little American navy of gunboats. Among 
the other ofl&cers was Stephen Decatur, then first lieutenant on board the 
Argus. He was only about twenty-three years old, but he had been in the 
navy four years and had already become known as a brave and skillful 
ofEcer, with a talent for managing men as well as ships. 

After the little squadron had been in the Mediterranean for some 
time, one of the vessels, the Philadelphia, in some wa}^, got aground in 
the harbor of Tripoli, and was captured. Decatur asked permission of the 
commander, Commodore Pieble, to try to get her back. This, the chief 
said, could not be done, biit after awhile he told Decatur that he might go 
and burn the frigate so tliat the Tripolitans could never use her. The 
lieutenant set about his task at once. 

The Intrepid, a small boat, was made ready, twenty men werb picked 
out of the .squadron's crew; and, one calm, dark night, under Decatur's 
command, the party set out on their perilous errand. 

ON BOARD WITH DRAWN SWORDS. 

The Philadelphia was a good-sized frigate, carrying forty guns, and 
now she was surrounded with other gunboats and batteries, ready to fire 
on the Americans at any moment. Decatur managed to enter the harboi 
and get alongside of the Philadelphia before the Tripolitans knew that the 
peaceable-looking little vessel was manned by the hated '' Americanoes." 
Then they raised a great cry and rushed on deck, but it was too late. 
Decatur and his men were on board, with drawn swords. The frightened 
men of Tripoli were in too great a panic to fight, so in five minutes the 
deck was cleared, and before they regained their senses the ship was in 
flames from stem to stern and the Intrepid was glidiug safely out of the 
harbor. 

For this gallant deed, Decatur was made a captain and presented with 
a sword by Congress. More decided measures were soon taken against 
the power of the Mediterranean pirates. A land expedition attacked them 
on the easterly side, while the town was also bombarded from the harbor, 
and Decatur, with three American gunboats, had a desperate fight with 
nine of the enemy's vessels. He succeeded in capturing two of them, by 
a close and sharp conflict. Just after the first one was taken, he hearcl 
that his brother, James Decatur, had boarded another ship whose com- 



COMMODORE DECATUR. 171 

mander had pretended to surrender, and had been treacherously slain by 
the enemy. 

Calling to his men to follow, he rushed on board of the murderer's 
vessel, seized the treacherous commander and killed him in a deadly 
hand-to-hand struggle. Decatur's men, following close upon him, ha'l 
surrounded him in the fight and beaten back the Tripolitaus that tried to 
force their way to the relief of their chief One, more successful than the 
others in eluding the Americans' swords, was just aiming a fatal blow at 
Decatur, when one of his followers, who had lost the use of both arms, 
rushed up and received the blow intended for Decatur on his own head. 

DECATUR'S NAME WAS A TERROR. 

Several attacks were now made upon Tripoli by Commodore Preble, 
in each of which Decatur took an active part. His name, it is said, 
became a terror all along the Barbary coast, and helped to frighten the 
Bey or chief of the State into making peace the next year, when he heard 
that he was coming to attack him again as one of the leading commanders 
of a still larger force than Preble's. 

While our Government was busy with England, in the war of 1812, 
the Dey of Algiers — seeming not to think of how affairs between America 
and his neighbors of Tunis and Tripoli had ended — employed some of his 
ships in seizing our merchant vessels and holding Americans in slavery ; 
but he did not keep it up long after the Great Britain affairs were settled. 
Three months after Decatur returned to New York from Bermuda, he 
was at the head of a squadron bound for Algeria. In a month he passed 
the straits of Gibraltar, and captured two of the Algerine squadron. He 
then pushed on to the State and soon convinced the Dey that the best 
thing: he could do woiild be to immediately sign a treaty promising never 
more to molest American ships again, aud to restore at once all the 
Americans he held captives. 

The work accomplished by Decatur caused the whole of Europe to 
respect the naval power of the United States. They had done what noue 
of the old navies dared to attempt. They had put a stop to the piracies 
of the Barbary States, and were the means of freeing the ships of Europe 
as well as of America from their robberies and from the heavy taxes they 
had demanded from all nations for many years. 

Stephen Decatur was born at Sinnepuxent, Maryland, January 5, 
T779. He died at Bladensburg, Maryland, March 22, 1820. 



172 



CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 



QUESTIONS. 

What war did the United States have in the beginning of the cen- 
tury ? What did the Mohammedan states of Egypt do to American ship- 
ping ? Who sent our navy to settle the trouble ? Who was the com- 
mander of the expedition ? What position did Decatur hold under Com- 
modore Preble ? Can you describe Decatur's gallant exploit in burning 
the Philadelphia ? Can 3'ou describe his battle with the murderer of his 
brother ? Why was he sent to make a treaty with the Dey of Algiers ? 
What was the effect of his exploits upon the countries of northern Egypt ? 
Where was Decatur born and where did he die? 



^\ 



CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 



AND POCAHONTAS. 




*) OCAHONTAS was a 3'oung Indian girl, said Uncle 
Frank, and I think you would like to hear about her 
and Captain John Smith. What I am going to tell 
you happened in Virginia during the earl}^ history of 
our country. 

In 1605 Captain Smith joined the expedition of a 
London company that was coming over to settle in 
Virginia, in the vicinity of the James River. 
eM>^ Was not Virginia at that time nearly all a wilder- 

ness ? Mabel asked. Was it not a vast forest ? 

Yes, and was inhabited bj^ wild Indian tribes, said Uncle Frank. 
Soon after the company reached their new home the settlement was in a 
pitiable state. The provisions sent out from England had been spoiled 
on the voyage, and the colonists were too indolent to cultivate the land, 
or to seek to obtain supplies from the Indians. Sickness broke out among 
them, owing to the unhealthy location, and by the beginning of the winter 
more than half their number had died. 

From this time Smith was the actual head of the government. Food 
was what was most wanted Ly the colony, and as it was now too late to 
raise it, Smith exerted himself to obtain it from the Indians. He ]ur- 



CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 



ITS 



chased a supply, and towards the close of the autumn the wild fowl which 
frequent the region furnished additional provisions for the settlers. 

The danger of a famine thus removed. Smith proceeded to explore 
the country. In one of these expeditions he ascended the Chickahominy 
River as far as he could go in his boat, and then leaving it in charge of 
two men, struck into the interior with an Indian guide. His men dis- 
obeyed his instructions, and were surprised and put to death by the In- 
dians. Smith himself was taken prisoner, and surprised his captors by 
his cool courage and self-possession. Instead of begging for his life, he 
set to work to convince them 
of his superiority over them, 
and succeeded so well that 
they regarded him with a sort 
of awe. 

He astonished them by 
showing them his pocket com- 
pass and explaining to them 
its uses, and excited their ad- 
miration by writing a letter to 
his friends at Jamestown in- 
forming them of his situation, 
and of the danger to which 
they were exposed, because 
the Indians meant to attack 
them. One of the savages 
bore the letter to the settlers. 

Smith had been captured 
by a powerful chieftain of the 
Pamunkey Indians ; but as captain john smith. 

the curiosity of the neighboring tribes was greatly aroused by his pre- 
sence, he was led in triumph from the Chickahominy to the villages on 
the Rappahannock and the Potomac, and then taken through other towns 
to the residence of the chief. Here the medicine men of the tribe tried 
for three days to ascertain his character and what he was going to do. 
All this while he was calm and fearless, as if he were not alarmed for his 
safety. He was regarded by the savages as a superior beWg, and was 
treated with kindness, though kept a close prisoner. 

His fate was referred to Powhatan for decision, as the oiher tribes 




174 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 

teared to bring tlie blood of such a strange being upon their heads. 
Powhatan received the captive in great state, surrounded by his warriors. 
" He wore," says Smith, " such a grave and majestical countenance as 
drove me into admiration to see." Brought into the presence of Pow- 
hatan, Smith was received with a shout from the assembled warriors. A 
handsome young squaw brought him water to wash his hands, and 
another gave him a bunch of feathers to dry them. Food was then set 
before him, and while he applied himself to the repast a consultation was 
held by the savages as to his fate. Smith watched the proceedings closely, 
and was aware from the gestures of the council that his death had been 
determined upon. 

The captive was seized and his hands were bound with strong cords. 
Two brawny savages stood by to beat out his brains with their clubs. 
During these proceedings Pocahontas, a child of ten or twelve years, 
" dearly loved daughter " of Powhatan, touched with pity for the unfor- 
tunate stranger, had been earnestly pleading with her father to spare his 
life. Failing in this, she sprang forward at the moment the Indian exe- 
cutioners were about to kill their victim, and, throwing herself by his 
side, clasped her arms about his neck and laid her head upon his to pro- 
tect him from the impending stroke. This remarkable action in a child 
so young moved the savages with profound astonishment. They regarded 
it as showing the will of Heaven in favor of the captive, and it was deter- 
mined to spare his life and seek his friendship. 

THE CHILD OF THE FOREST AND THE BRAVE CAPTAIN. 

Smith was released from his bonds, and was given to Pocahontas to 
make beads and bells for her, and to weave for her ornaments of copper. 
The friendship which the innocent child of the forest conceived for him 
grew stronger every day, and ceased only with her life. Powhatan took 
him into his favor, and endeavored to induce him to abandon the English 
and cast his lot with him. He even sought to obtain his aid in an attack 
upon the colony. Smith declined these oflfers, and succeeded in winning 
their good-will for the English. In a short while the Indians allowed him 
to go upon his promise to send to King Powhatan two cannon and a 
grindstone. 

He showed the Indians who had accompanied him two of the largest 
cannon, and asked them to lift them. This was impossible; nor could 
they succeed any better with the grindstone. Smith then discharged the 



-^ ^ <r 




POCAHONTAS INTERCEDINa FOR THE LIFE OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. ;75 



176 



CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 



cannon in their presence, which so frightened them that they refused tc 
have anything to do with them. Having evaded his promise in this 
manner, Smith bestowed more suitable presents upon his guides, and sent 
them home with gifts for Powhatan and Pocahontas. The savage king 
was doubtless well satisfied to let the " great gnus '' alone after hearing 
the report of his messengers concerning them, and was greatly pleased 
with the gifts sent him. 

Smith found the colony reduced to forty men and affairs in great 
confusion. His companions had believed that he had fallen a victim to 

the Indians, and he was greeted with 
delight, as the need of his firm hand 
had been sadly felt. 

The friendship of the Indians for 
him now enabled him to buy from the 
savages the food necessary to sustain 
the colonists through the winter. In 
g' Uiany ways his captivity proved a great 
blessing to the settlement. He had not 
only explored the country between the 
Rivers James and Potomac, and gained, 
considerable knowledge of the language 
and customs of the natives, but had 
disposed the Indian tribes subject to 
Powhatan to regard the colony with 
friendship. Had the savages been hos- 
tile during this winter the colony must 
have perished of starvation ; but now, every few days throughout this 
season, Pocahontas came to the fort accompanied by a number of her tribe 
bearing baskets of corn for the whites. 

This friendly feeling lasted for some years, but was finally destroyed. 
On the twenty-second of March, 1622, a general attack was made by the 
savages upon all the settlements of the colony. On the previous night 
the plot had been revealed to a converted Indian named Chauco, who at 
once hastened to Jamestown, the principal settlement, and gave warning 
of the danger. The alarm spread rapidly to the nearest settlements, but 
those at a distance could not be reached in time to avert their fate. 

Those settlements which had been warned were able to offer a suc- 
cessful resistance to their enemies, and some of those which were sur- 




POCAHONT.Vh. 



CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 



17^ 



• AX. . ff t-he Indians • but the number of victims, men, women and 

these were 
slain, and 
their fate 
•would have 
been shared 
by the whole 
colony but for 
the warning 
of the friend- 
ly Indian. 

The effect 
on the colony 
was appall- 
ing. The dis- 
tant planta- 
tions had 
been destroy- 
ed by the sav- 
ages, and out 
of eighty set- 
tlements only 
eight were 
saved. These, 
and especial- 
ly Jamestown 
were crowded 
beyond their 
capacity with 
fugitives who 
had fled to 
them for shel- 
ter. Sickness 
soon began to 
prevail, the 




FLIGHT OF THE INDIANS AFTER THE MASSACRE. 

15" *" 



12 



178 



" STONEWALL " JACKSON. 



oflF. At the end of two years after the massacre, the number of inhabitants 
had been reduced to two thousand. 

Much sympathy was manifested for the suffering colonists by the 
people of England. The city of London sent them liberal assistance, and 
private individuals subscribed to their need. King James was aroused 
into an appearance of generous sympathy, and sent over to the colony a 
suppl)^ of muskets which had been condemned as worthless in England. 

QUESTIONS. 

Who was Pocahontas ? Who was Captain John Smith ? What was 
the condition of the settlement in Virginia? How did Smith endeavor 
to obtain food for the settlers ? What did his guides do when he was ex- 
ploring the countr}^ and what became of them ? What did the Indians 
think of Smith after they had captured him ? What did they determine 
to do with him ? Who saved his life ? What became of Smith ? What 
did the Indians think of the cannon and grindstone ? Can you describe 
the attack made on the settlers in 1622. 



#^ 



"STONEWALL" JACKSON 

THE BHILLIANT CONFEDERATE GENERAL. 



HALL I tell you to-day, said Uncle Frank, of one of 
^|£j the great commanders in the Civil War? He was 
called " Stonewall ;" who can tell me what was his 
real name ? 

Jackson, said James very promptly, but I do not 
lemember what his Christian name was. 

It was Thomas Jonathan, said Elsie ; I remember 
reading it in my history. 

I think that was his name, continued Uncle 
Frank. He was born in Virginia and graduated from the Military Acad- 
emy at West Point and was sent fresh from the Academy into the midst 
of the Mexican War the year it broke out — that is, in 1846. He soon won 
the rank of first lieutenant. After the war was over he helped to build 
the forts about New York Harbor and then went to Florida to take part in 




"STONEWALL" JACKSON. 



17& 



settling the troubles with the Seminole Indians. Soon after this — in 1852 
— he was chosen one of the instructors in the Virginia Military Academy 
at Lexington, where the Washington and Lee University was afterwards 
established. He taught natural philosophy and military tactics. He 
made a good teacher, but he was so very bashful that the students used to 
have a great deal of fun about him. 

He had very strong opinions about States' rights, and as soon as the 
war broke out he enlisted at once in the Confederate Army, where he was 
made a colonel and placed in command at Harper's Ferry. From that 
moment all his shyness left 
him. He took the lead with his 
men, as if he had always been 
a commander. 

When he had been three 
months in the army he was 
called to take part in tlie first 
great battle of the war — that 
of Bull Run, which was fought 
July 21, 1861, between the 
armies of General P. G. T. Beau- 
regard of the South, and Gen- 
eral Irwin McDowell of the 
North. During the battle some'/^Q 



of the heavy charges from the 
North made the Southern lines 
waver, but Jackson and his men 
stood firm. One of his fellow- 
ofl&cers caught sight of him and 




' STONEWALL 



JACKSON. 

exclaimed to his own men, " See Jackson standing there like a stone wall I'* 
From that time he was called " Stonewall Jackson ;" but it is also said 
that his troops were first called " the Stonewall Brigade " because they 
came from the stone wall counties of Virginia. 

In September, after the conflict at Bull Run, Jackson was made a 
major-general ; in January he was sent North to keep General Banks 
occupied and prevent him from making any serious movements. He har- 
assed the Union forces all he could, but did not dare to risk any open bat- 
tles because he had not enough men. In March twenty thousand more 
were added to his force ; then he was ready to fight. 



180 «♦ STONEWALL" JACKSON. 

In the meantime the Northern Army had been divided. General Mc- 
Clellan with the greater part had started for Richmond by water. 
Another body under General McDowell set out for the same place by 
land, and another under General Banks was ordered to march down to 
Manassas and to scour the Shenandoah valley. But General Jackson soon 
stopped the scouring by falling upon General Banks at Strasburg, Vir- 
ginia, where he not only beat him in short order, but chased him all the 
way up to the Potomac. 

When the people at Washington heard of this they were greatly 
alarmed, and McDowell, who had set out to join McClellan, hastened back 
to protect the capital. This was exactly what the Southern people 
wanted, for with McDowell up at Washington it would be easier to keep 
McClellan away from Richmond. This was the next thing to be done 
and Jackson immediately started to help Lee do it. The news of his raids 
and also of his approach to Richmond made McClellan very much afraid 
that he did not have men enough to fight so dangerous a foe, and finally 
induced him to give up his purpose for the time. Jackson reached the 
place just in time to help Lee drive him away. 

UNION FORCES FALL BACK. 

Two battles were fought while the Northern Army was retreatfng, 
one at Gaines' Mills and one at Malvern Hill, neither of which were 
decidedly won by either army ; but they favored the South, for McClellan 
kept falling back to the James River. Here Jackson left him and started 
north again, where another large Union army had been raised and sent 
into Virginia under General Pope. 

While on his way to meet this new force, Jackson came across his old 
enemy, General Banks, at Cedar Mountain. There they had a battle in 
w hich Banks was badly beaten. Jackson hurried on and in two weeks 
more surprised a part of Pope's army at Manassas Junction, captured a 
large quantity of guns and provisions, and then moved on to the rest of 
the Northern Army, which was stationed on the old Bull Run battlefield. 
Here, August 28th, occurred the second battle of Bull Rui *he victory 
all on Jackson's side. 

The next morning, bright and early, he was up and away again. On 
the loth of September he was at Martinsville, helping himself to a good 
stock of ammunition and provisions which the Union Army had left on 
hearing of his approach. He followed ihem to Harper's Ferry, stormed 



"STONEWALIy" JACKSON. I8i 

t'fie place, and, without waiting to receive the surrender — only making 
sure that it must come — went on to rejoin General Lee. The morning of 
September 17th he was ready to take an important part in the battle of 
Antietam. Lee said that whatever credit there was due to the South in 
this engagement belonged to Jackson. iBut this was hardly just to himself. 

ROUTED IN GREAT CONFUSION. 

From the close of this battle until April Jackson was busy preparing 
official reports and had no part upon the field. Then, May 2d, he engaged 
in his last battle at Chancellorsville, Virginia. His victorious troops 
again made fearful havoc among the Northern ranks. With one of his 
quick, unexpected attacks, he surprised a large force and routed them in 
terrible confusion. Jackson was everywhere in the thickest of the fight. 
Night came on, and as he and his aids galloped back to the tamp, his own 
troops mistook them for enemies and fired upon them. Jackson was badly 
wounded and eight days afterward he died. His loss was a terrible lilow 
to the South. Lee said that his right arm was gone. 

As a general, Jackson had few equals. He had wonderful power over 
liis men ; he was perfectly fearless, but not reckless ; he saw when he 
could strike a telling blow and never hesitated to do it ; but he also saw 
when the case was hopeless, and would not risk the lives of his men. His 
most brilliant charges were made after careful planning and close calcula- 
tion of his own and his enemy's forces. As a man he was modest, 
upright, and remarkably pure-minded. His loss, it has been said, was the 
greatest that either party had yet had, in the fall of a single man. 

General Thomas J. Jackson was born at Clarksburg, Virginia, Ja:;- 
nary 21, 1824. He died at Guinea's Station, in the same State, May lo- 
1863, a few days after he Avas wounded by his own men. 

QUESTIONS. 

Where was General Jackson educated ? Where was he sent after he 
graduated? Where was he made military instructor? What was his 
first command in the Civil War ? What Northern general did he twice 
defeat ? Can you describe his brilliant successes ? In what battle did he 
lose his life ? By whom was he shot ? Why did he receive the name of 
" Stonewall " Jackson ? What were his traits of character? Where was 
he bom and when did he die ? 



GENERAL PHIL SHERIDAN 

THE DASHING CAYALEY COMMANDER. 




, ENERx\L SHERIDAN, said Uncle Frank, was one 
of the bra\est and most successful commanders we 
had during the Civil War. 

Was it he, asked Elsie, that made the famous 
ride we have heard so much about ? 

The very man, replied Uncle Frank, and his 
stor}' is a thrilling one. I must tell it to you. 

While the Confederate General Lee was at Cold 
Harbor, in the summer of 1864, he detached General 
Early with S,ooo men with orders to attack the Federals in the Shenan- 
doah Valle3\ General Early appeared close to Martinsburg on the 2d of 
July, and the Northern General Sigel left the place, losing some of his 
stores. Early continued to advance, and Sigel continued to retreat, until 
across the Potomac, when he took up a position on Maryland Heights. 

GREAT ALARM IN WASHINGTON. 

Early now advanced into Maryland, opposite the heights on which 
Sigel had intrenched himself. Great alarm was felt in Washington when 
it became known that a Confederate force had once more invaded the 
North. In a short time, however, re-enforcements were sent to the en- 
dangered section, though scattered bodies of Confederates appeared here 
and there and laid waste many neighborhoods in revenge for the desola- 
tion Hunter had caused in the Shenandoah Valley. 

President Lincoln called upon Pennsylvania, New York, and Massa- 
chusetts for militia with which to repel the invasion. The soldiers were 
quickly brought togethe* and sent forward. They were not the kind 
with which to meet the Confederate veterans. So it M'as that when Gen- 
eral Lew Wallace, their commander, was attacked on the 9th of July, at 
Monocacy Tunction, he was routed. His ill-disciplined troops gave way 
and fled in a panic toward Baltimore, with the Confederate cavalry whoop- 
ing and slashing at their heels. 

m 



GENERAL PHIL SHERIDAN. 



183 



By this time, as you may well suppose, Washington was in a state 
of consternation. Earl)' attacked Rockville, only fourteen miles west of 
Washington, and Colonel Harry Gilmor, the famous Confederate cavalry 
leader, whose home was iu Baltimore, cut the communications between 
that city and Philadelphia. He captured a railway train in which was 
General Franklin, who, having been wounded in the South, was on his 
way North for rest and a change of air. Gilmor's men were worn out by 
their hard riding, 
and did not keep 
close watch of the 
prisoners, who 
managed to get 
away. 

Early was so 
elevated by his 
success, that he 
now galloped to- 
ward Washington 
before which he 
appeared on the 
nth of July, and 
engaged the bat- 
teries of Fort Ste- ^ 
vens. You can 
understand the 
alarm in the na- 
tional capital, 
when in the dusk 
of evening they 
saw the flash of 
the Confederate "•■-•.•; ..;>-;...:-;>,:-••■ ' 

guns and the cir- general phil sheridan. 

cling of the horsemen from Lee's army. General Grant had been com- 
municated Avith on the first alarm, and he sent a corps from before 
Petersburg. Reinforcements had reached Washington when Early began 
.skirmishing before it, and they now sallied out under General Augur 
and attacked the Confederates with great spirit. The latter were speedily 
defeated and withdrew, leaving a hundred dead and wounded behind. 







184 GENERAL PHIL SHERIDAN. 

Early withdrew up the Potomac, crossing it at Edward's Eerry, and 
then passed through Suicker's Gap to the western side oi the Shenandoah. 
Defeating General Wright, who had been sent in pursuit, Early estab- 
lished his head-quarters at Winchester and repelled an attack by Averill, 
"who was forced to seek shelter at Harper's Eerry. 

Early had had a taste of invasion, and he tried it again. Crossing 
the Potomac, on the 29th. of July, a force of Confederates passed into 
Maryland and advanced to Chambersburg, Pennsylvania. At that place 
Gilmor's cavalry demanded 200,000 dollars in gold, which was not brought 
forth. The city was then set on fire. When, Averill, riding hard, 
reached the town, he found it burning, while the Confederate raiders, 
after some close escapes, reached the southern bank of the Potomac. 

SHERIDAN SENT WITH A BIG ARMY. 

These raids were so annoying to the national government that it was 
determined to put a stop to them. Grant being before Petersburg could 
not give the matter the personal attention necessary. The departments 
of western Virginia, Washington and the Susquehanna were united into 
one division and placed under the command of Sheridan, at whose dis- 
posal was a force of 40,000 men. 

Early had only about 13,000 troops with which to bold his position 
at Winchester. You would think that under such circumstances the 
Federals had nothing to fear, but for a time Grant refused to allow any 
offensive movement on the part of Sheridan through dread of disaster. 
The commander-in-chief of the Union armies fully realized the critical 
state of the country and he felt that he could afford no more reverses. 
Einally, he tt)ld Sheridan that he might gr ahead on condition that he 
would so desolate the Shenandoah Valley that there would be nothing left 
to invite invasion. 

Early and Sheridan had been "vatching each other from opposite 
sides of the Opequan, a small stream that enters the Potomac west of the 
Sheiiaud;)ah. Early, who was covering Winchester, sent a division to- 
ward INIartinsburg so as to threaten the right of the Eederal line. By 
doing ,so he exposed his own right to attack. 

vSheridan at once crossed the stream and assailed Early. The latter 
immediately recalled the division sent away and a long and furious en- 
gagement followed. At first it was favorable to the Confederates, but a 
timely charge by Sheridan shattered the Southern battle line and the rout 



GENERAL PHIL SHERIDAN. 185 

7as complete. Early's army became a wild mob of cavalry, infantry and 
artillery which scrambled headlong through Winchester with Sheridan's 
force driving them like so many terrified sheep. General Rhodes of tlie 
Confederate Army was killed and three other general officers wounded. 

DROVE THE ENEMY LIKE A WHIRLWIND- 

Five pieces of artillery, nine flags and 2,500 prisoners Avere taken. 
The Confederates kad fought well and the losses on the part of their 
opponents were also severe. Having driven the enem}' through Win- 
chester, the Federals were too much exhausted to keep up the pursuit, 
and Early re-formed his shattered ranks and took position at Fisher's 
Hill near Strasburg. 

Early felt secure in this place, but when attacked by Sheridan on 
the 2ist of September he was routed with heavy loss and forced to retreat 
still further up the valley. Sheridan followed, sending his cavalry to 
Staunton, where they destroyed a railway bridge. About this time Earl}- 
received a reinforcement of a division from Longstreet's corps, and he in- 
trenched kimself at Brown's Gap, in the Blue Ridge Mountains, where he 
was safe against any attack. 

Sheridan now proceeded to carry out the orders of General Grant, to 
devastate the Shenandoah Valley to that extent that there would be noth- 
ing left to tempt invasion. How well he did the fearful task let him tell 
in kis own words : " The whole country from the Blue Ridge to the North 
Mountain has been rendered untenable for a rebel army. I have 
destroyed over two thousand barns filled with wheat and hay and fanning 
implements, over seventy mills filled with flour and wheat. I have driven 
in front of the army over four thousand head of stock, having killed and 
issued to the troops not less than three thousand sheep ; a large number 
of horses have been obtained." 

On the return of Sheridan down the vallej^, he was closely followed 
by a Confederate force. The latter made an attack and was repulsed. 
A more important engagement took place at Cedar Creek on the 19th ot 
October. The Federals were Intrenched on the north bank of that 
stream, which runs into the Shenandoah, when at daylight the Confeder- 
ates made their attack with great fury. Most of the pickets were captured 
and the rest, roused from sleep, were driven in headlong confusion back 
toward Middletown. Early seized eighteen of the Federals guns and 
turned them on the fugitives. At last General Wright, the commander 



189 



GENERAL PHIL SHERIDAN. 



of the Federals, succeeded in rallying them, and the flight was checked. 
At this time the Confederates were in the Federal camps, where the 
sight of food and drink was too tempting to be resisted. They stopped 




Sheridan's cavalry charge at cedar creek. 

chasing the Federals and gave themselves up to feasting, and their enjoy- 
ment was such as only famishing men placed in a similar situation can 
appreciate. 

Sheridan was not in this battle. Some time before, believing his 
army fully safe, he had gone to Washington to consult with the govern- 



GENERAL PHIL SHERIDAN. 187 

ment. He was on his return and had reached Winchester, twenty miles 
from the army, where he slept the night before the battle. Mounting his 
horse the next morning to continue his ride, he heard the boom of artil- 
lery: He knew at once that a battle was in progress, and spurred his 
horse to a swift gallop. In the course of an hour or two he began to meet 
stragglers. He reproved them in his well-known vigorous language, and 
spurred his horse to a dead run. 

THEY TURNED AND FOLLO\A^ED HIM TO VICTORY. 

Many of the stragglers, feeling the magnetism of his example, turned 
about and followed him. He burst like a meteor among the men whom 
General Wright was trying to form into line and inspired them all with 
his own dashing heroism. He was cheered to the echo as he galloped 
down the line and assured them that they were going right back to retake 
the camps from the enemy. 

He kept his word. Back to Cedar Creek he led his men and they 
swept every thing; before them. Early's troops fled in the wildest panic, 
leaving their guns. Indeed so thoroughly were the Confederates routed 
and broken up that nothing more was done by them in the Shenandoah 
Valley during the war. That section had been cleared of them, and they 
caused no more anxiety to General Grant and the national authorities. 

The exploit of Sheridan increased his fame throughout the country. 
I have no doubt you have read the poem of T. Buchanan Read, called 
' Sheridan's Ride," which is a description of the Union general's furious 
ride from Winchester " twenty miles away," to the rescue of his panic- 
stricken army. 

QUESTIONS. 

What Confederate general received orders to attack the Union forces 
in the Shenandoah Valley? How far north did General Early advance? 
What did President Lincoln do to resist the invasion ? How did General 
Franklin and other Union prisoners make their escape ? What did Gen- 
eral Early next do ? How many men did General Sheridan have under 
his command ? Can you describe his attack upon General Early and its 
result? Can you describe Sheridan's destruction of property in the Shen- 
andoah Valley ? Where and when did Sheridan make his famous ride ? 
What eflfect did his presence have upon his defeated troops ? 



THEODOEE EOOSEYELl 



THE FAMOUS EOUGH EIDER 



HALL I tell you of one of our most celebrated men 
this morning ? said Uncle Frank as the young folks 
gathered about him. 

Who is he ? James asked. Have we ever heard 
of him ? 

You must 'have heard of Colonel Roosevelt, and 
his dashing regiment of Rough Riders that had so 
much said about them and their bravery at the bat- 
tles of La Quasina and San Juan, said Uncle Frank. 
When Roosevelt brought his regiment back after the war ended he was 
met at Montauk Point by hundreds of men whose admiration he had won 
by his heroism and self-sacrifice. 

He greeted them as best he could, but all his thoughts were with the 
disembarking soldiers, whom he was so soon to bid farewell. 




HE THOUGHT ONLY OF HIS MEN. 

" You are being boomed for Governor of New York," his friends said 
to him. "You will surely win." He seemed scarcely to hear them. 

" Good,'' he said, and then pointed to the men in the boats. " What 
do you think of the regiment?" he asked enthusiastically. 

" There are campaign buttons already out with your picture on 
them." 

" You must excuse me now," he said. " I must see that my men 
are comfortable. I M'ill talk about other things later." 

For to Theodore Roosevelt, the men who had fought under him at 
L,a Quasina and San Juan hill were more important, far more important, 
than the Governorship of the State of New York. However, he was made 
Governor of New York, and everybody felt that a strong man was at the 
head of affairs in the Empire State. Let me tell you what kind of a man 
he is. When Governor Roosevelt was surrounded by Congressmen and 
Senators who were urging him to accept the nomination for the Vice. 
188 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 189 

Presidency, " buck " Taylor, one of the famous marksmen of tlie Rough 
Riders, sat down in the anteroom and wondered whether he would ever 
get a chance to shake hands with his old commander. And then, through 
the open doors, Governor Roosevelt saw the waiting man. His eyes 
lighted up in welcome, he pushed through the group of men surrounding 
him, elbowed a Congressman out of his wa}', dodged an anxious party 
leader, and advanced with outstretched hand to greet " Buck " Taylor. 
The Vice-Presidency could wait. A Rough Rider wanted to greet him. 

WHAT HE DID FOR OUR NAVY. 

The men who fought with him in Cuba scarcely knew him then, yet 
they followed him through shot and shell. They would follow him now 
through any danger you ever heard of. He was sent to the New York 
Legislature when quite young. Afterward he held several offices in New 
York City, and then President McKinlej- made him Assistant Secretary 
of the Navy. He was the same upright, fearless man in Washington he 
had been in New York. He demanded two appropriations, amounting to 
$800,000, to be expended on shot and shell for practice shooting in the 
navy. There were loud outcries at this. 

"Whatl" people exclaimed. "Give $800,000 to be thrown away 
on nothing? What utter nonsense ! " 

Yet by the time the war with Spain broke out the men behind the 
American guns knew how to shoot. And, judging from the appearance 
of the Spanish ships after a battle (they seldom went through more than 
one) , their shots went straight to the mark. 

When Roosevelt resigned his position in the Navy Department and 
went out in the wilds of the West to make good his claim that cowboys 
and Indians could be gathered and drilled in thirty days into a magnifi- 
cent fighting force people " pooh-poohed " the idea and advised him to 
give it up. In a month the Rough Riders were in the East, ready t'.> 
take ship for Cuba. 

When Roosevelt accepted the commission of lieutenant colonel and 
announced his intention of leading his regiment in person his political 
friends held up their hands in horror. 

" Foolhardy I " they exclaimed. " You Avill get out of touch with 
politics. You will ruin yourself." 

The wires became hot with the news of the glorious conduct of the 
Rough Riders. Fight after fight was reported and somehow or other 



190 THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 

Theodore Roosevelt always seemed to be in the thick of it. When the 
fighting was over and his men were dying of fever and foul food their 
colonel overlooked military red-tape and exerted himself to the utmost to 
relieve them. 

" Will he never learn common sense ? " wailed his friends at home. 
" Now he is ruined beyond hope." 

Yet when he walked down the gang plank at Montauk Point, New 
Yorkers were standing on the dock and could scarcely wait for him to 
land before handing him the Governorship. 

As an athlete and a hunter Roosevelt has won great fame. What 
he calls the most thrilling moment of his life he describes in one of his 
books. It is an adventure with a grizzly bear. 

BEAR TURNED ON HIM WITH FURY. 

" I held true, aiming behind the shoulder," he writes, '' my bullet 
shattered the point or lower end of his heart, taking out a big nick. In- 
stantly the great bear turned with a harsh roar of fury and challenge, 
blowing the bloody foam from his mouth so that I saw the gleam of his 
white fangs ; and then he charged straight at me, crashing and bounding 
through the laurel bushes, so that it was hard to aim. 

" I waited until he came to a fallen tree, raking him, as he topped it, 
with a ball which shattered his chest and went through the cavity of hi.s 
body, but he had neither swerved nor flinched, and at the moment I did 
not know that I had struck him. He came steadily on, and in another 
second was almost upon me. I fired for his forehead but my bullet went 
low, entering his open mouth, smashing his lower jaw and going into his 
neck. 

" I leaped to one side, almost as I pulled the trigger ; and through 
the hanging smoke the first thing I saw was his paw, as he made a vicious 
side blow at me. The rush of his charge carried him past. As he struck 
he lurched forward, leaving a pool of bright blood where his muzzle hit 
the ground ; but he recovered himself and made two or three onwards, f 
while I hurriedly jammed a couple of cartridges into the magazine, my 
rifle holding only foiir, all of which I had fired. Then he tried to pull up 
but as he did so his muscles seemed suddenly to give way, his head 
dropped and he rolled over and over like a shot rabbit. Each of my first 
three bullets had inflicted a mortal wound." 

A Western trapper tells another story of a hunting adventure. 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 191 

" You know Colonel Roosevelt is very near-sighted," he says, " and 
he carries more kinds of glasses than an Englishman ; one pair to read 
with, one to shoot with, and another to walk with. When the bear 
charged us he had on his walking glasses ; and when I told him that the 
beast was upon him he coolly took off these glasses, folded them up, and 
put them away in his pocket, took out and -wiped his shooting glasses, 
and put them on as quietly and deliberately as if there was not a bear in 
the whole country. 

" By the time he had got his glasses adjusted the bear was near, but 
he pulled up his gun and killed him in his tracks, and did not seem in 
the least bit excited." 

Many good stories are told of Colonel Roosevelt's care of his precious 
eye-glasses. One of the Rough Riders tells this tale: 

STORIES ABOUT ROOSEVELT'S EYE-GLASSES. 

" Colonel Roosevelt had been in the habit of wearing nose-glasses 
with a black silk cord attached, but the arrangement was highly uusuited 
to a hunting trip, where the glasses themselves would be liable to fall off 
constantly and the cord to catch on twigs. So he put in their place ver}' 
large, round spectacles with steel hooks for the ears, and had a dozen 
pairs mounted. These he stowed away in his clothing, trying to dis- 
tribute them so no one accident would break them all. One pair was 
sewed in his blouse, another in his belt, another in his hat, two in his 
saddle-bags, and so on. 

"At the fight at La Quasina his horse was barked by a bullet while 
being held by an orderly and plunged frantically against a tree. Colonel 
Roosevelt came rushing up, all anxiety, and began prying under the 
saddle flap. 

" ' They haven't hurt the nag, sir,' said the orderly. . 

" ' I know,' replied the Colonel, with tears in his voice, ' but blast 
'em, they've smashed my specs ! ' " 

When Roosevelt first went and bought a ranch in the Bad Lands of 
Dakota, the cowboys tried to treat him as a New York dude, but that did 
not last long. After a man named De Mores had broken up a gang of 
horse thieves and desperadoes, and had left the country, some of the gang 
made attempts to continue their stealing. Th'^ • were openlj'- aided by 
the Sheriff. 

Roosevelt called a meeting of all the ranchers nearby, ;ummoned the 



ii^i: THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 

Sheriff, and, with his gun iu his hand, called that official a liar and a 
horse thief. A tenderfoot (one not used to rough life) doesn't often get a 
chance to use such language twice, but the Sheriff had to take his medi- 
cine and resign. 

On his own ranch, too, he showed the stuff from which he was made. 
He bought the most unmanageable cow ponies he could find in the country, 
and when his men grumbled at having to ride them, the " dude " picked 
out the worst horse of the lot and broke it. At one time he was thrown 
and four of his ribs were fractured, but he picked himself up, remounted 
and conquered the beast before dressing his injuries. 

HE WAS THE MANLIEST OF THEM ALL. 

His shooting, too, won the respect of the rough ranchmen. Roose- 
velt could not see ten yards in front of him without his glasses, and is a 
poor shot with a revolver, but give him a rifle and a long range shot and 
he can do some fancy work. Further than this, he won his men's admi- 
ration by putting on the gloves with the biggest and roughest cow- 
punchers on his ranch. 

He has summed up his philosophy of life in his own words. 

" If you could speak commandingly to the young men of our nation," 
he was asked on one occasion, " what would you say to them ? " His re- 
ply was : 

" I'd order them to work. I'd try to develop and work out an ideal 
of mine — the theory of the duty of the leisure class to the community. I 
have tried to do it b}?- example, and it is what I have preached : first and 
foremost, to be American, heart and soul, and to go in with any person, 
heedless of anything but that person's qualifications. 

" For myself, I'd work as quick beside Pat Dugan as with the last 
descendant of a patroon ; it literally makes no difference to me so long as 
the work is good and the man is in earnest." 

An incident illustrating Colonel Roosevelt's devotion to the men ot 
his regiment was told by Trooper Burkholder, of the Rough Riders. 
Burkholder was all through the active campaign with the Rough Riders, 
and returned with them. He was away on furlough on account of a 
slight attack of swamp fever when the Rough Riders were mustered out. 
and thus missed, as he puts it, " an opportunity to say good-bye to the 
most gallant commander and the truest man that a soldier was ever priv- 
ileged to fight under." 



THEODORE ROOSEVEI/T. 193 

" Only us few men who were witli him," said Burkholder, " know 
how considerate he was of iis at all times. There was one case in parti- 
cular that illustrates this better than any I can recall. It happened after 
the fight at La Quasina. The men were tired with the hard march and 
the fighting, and hunger was gnawing at every stomach. Besides, we 
had-our first men killed there, and, taking it all in all, we were in an ugly 
humor. The usual shouting, cracking of jokes, and snatches of song 
were missing, and everybod}'' appeared to be in the dumps. 

THE COLONEL'S FEAST OF BEEF STEW. 

" Well, things hadn't improved a bit, — in fact, were getting worse 
along toward meal time, when the Colonel began to move ab-out among 
the men, speaking encouragingly to each group. I guess he savv some- 
thing was up, and no doubt he made up his mind then and there to im- 
prove at least the humor of the men. There's an old saying that a man 
oan best be reached through his stomach, and I guess he belic\-cs i:i that 
iuaxini. Shortly afterward he saw the Colonel, his cook, and tv/o of the 
troopers in Company I strike out along the narrow road toward the town, 
and we wondered what was up. 

" It w^s probably an hour or so after this, and during a little resting 
spell in our work of clearing ground and making things a little camp-like, 
that the savory and almost forgotten odor of beef stew began to sweep 
through the clearing. Men who were working stopped short and began 
to sniff, and those who had stopped work for a breathing spell forgot to 
breathe for a second. 

" Soon they joined in thesnifl&ng, and I'll wager every one of us was 
snifl&ng as hard as he knew how. Oh, but didn't that smell fine I We 
weren't sure that it was for us, but we had a smell of it anyway. Quickly 
drooping spirits revived, and as the fumes of the boiling stew became 
stronger the humor of the men improved. We all jumped to our work 
with a will, and picks, shovels and axes were plied in a race-horse fashion, 
while the men would stop now and then to raise their heads and draw a 
long breath and exclaim : ' Wow ! but that smells good.' 

" We were finally summoned to feed, and then you can imagine our 
surprise. There was a big boiler and beside it a crowd of mess tent-men 
dishing out real beef stew ! We could hardly believe our eyes, and I had 
to taste mine first to make sure it wasn't a dream. You should have seen 
ihe expressions on the faces of the men as they gulped down the stt-w, 
13 



194 THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 

and we all laughed when one New York man yelled out ; * And it's got 
real onions in it, too ! ' 

" After we had loaded up we began to wonder where it all came from 
and then the two Troop I men told how the Colonel had purchased the 
potatoes and onions while his own cook secured the meat from Siboney. 

" You probably won't believe it, but the bushel of potatoes cost Colo 
nel Roosevelt almost $60, and he had to pay thirty odd good American dol- 
lars to get the onions, but then he knew what his men wanted, and it was 
always his men first with him. There was a rush to his tent when we 
learned this, and if you ever heard the cheering I'm sure you wouldn't 
wonder why the Rough Riders all love their Colonel. 

" I see," said Burkholder, " that in his address to the men at Camp 
Wikoif the Colonel told how he had to hurry at the San Juan Hill fight 
to save himself from being run over by the men. That's just like him to 
say that ; but he probably forgets that more than half of the men never 
ran so fast before and never will again, as they had to run to keep up with 
him. If Colonel Roosevelt lived in Arizona we would give him an}/- office 
he wanted Avithout any election nonsense." 

LED HIS MEN AND CHEERED THEM, 

Mason Mitchell, an actor and a member of Troop K, was wounded at 
Santiago on July ist, during the artillery fire just before the famous 
charge of San Juan Hill. He was lying down when a piece of shell 
struck him on the shoulder and ploughed its way around, following his 
ribs, lodging in his right breast. 

"I was just about to rise," he said, "when the shell struck me. 
Pieces of it also struck two other men. It toppled me over and sent me 
sprawling down the hill until I rolled up against another Rough Rider, 
who had been a New York policeman. He also was wounded, and we lay 
there until another member of my troop named Van Schaick, also a New 
Yorker, came along. He wet his handkerchief from his canteen and 
bathed my wounds. After that I was picked up and taken to a field hos- 
pital and later transferred to Key West. 

" Colonel Roosevelt displayed conspicuous courage. He was in sight 
all the time, cheering on his men, and constantly exposed to the Spanish 
fire." 

A poet in Colorado wrote a poem on Roosevelt, said Uncle Frank, 
and I think it is good enough to read to you : 



THEODORE ROOSEVEI^T. 195 

"TEDDY" THE ROUGH RIDER. 

Now, doff your hats to Teddy, boys, for lie's tlie proper man. 
His life lias been a triumph since its starting first began. 
His pluck and spirit in the days he roamed upon the range 
Have builded up a character no circumstance can change. 

From a cowboy on the " round-up " to the Governor of his State, 
We've always found a man in him that's strictly up to date. 
As a daring "bronco buster," or a Colonel in command, 
We'll greet him with McKinley with an open, hearty hand. 

He served his country nobly, and fired his faithful boys 
With patriotic valor, amid the cannon's noise. 
And, as they to him were lo3^al, in battle's fierce array, 
So will the voters prove to be upon election da3^ 

Now doff your hats to Teddy, boys, the man with grit and nerve 
In every ofiice that he fills, the people will he serve. 
Progression is his policy, no laggard in the race, 
He'll lead us on to victory, whatever be the pace. 

Mr. Roosevelt was born in the city of New York in 1858. He grad- 
lated at Harvard College in 1880. After holding a number of political 
ofi&ces, he fought through the Spanish War as leader of the Rough 
Riders in 1898 and in November of the same year was elected Governor 
of New York. 

QUESTIONS. 

Can you describe the scene when Mr. Roosevelt returned from Cuba 
with his regiment ? What great office was immediately offered to him ? 
How did he treat one of the Rough Riders who was waiting to see him ? 
What of&ce did he hold in Washington under McKinley ? Why did he 
want a large sum of money appropriated for the use of the navy ? What 
did he do when the Spanish war broke out ? Can you describe his ad- 
venture with a grizzly bear ? Can you narrate the story of a western 
traveller ? What about Roosevelt's eye-glasses ? How did he treat the 
sheriff on the western ranch ? What is his advice to young men ? 



LIEUTENANT HOBSON 

AND HIS DAEING DEED. 




lEUTENANT HOBSON, said Uncle Frank, became 
a famous hero iu one night. He performed a deed 
that was most daring, and risked his life and the lives 
of the brave fellows who went with him, in an effort 
to " bottle np " the vSpanish fleet in the harbor of 
Santiago. 

The Spani.sli fleet was inside the harbor, which 
had a very narrow entrance, and Admiral Sampson 
with his squadron was blockading the harbor; that 

is, he was trying to keep the Spanish ships shut in, or was ready to attack 

them if they came out. 

TO SINK A BIG SHIP ACROSS THE MOUTH OF THE HARBOR. 

Lieutenant Hobson, at that time assistant naval constructor on 
Admiral Sampson's flagship, proposed to sink the collier or coal ship 
Merrimac, a big vessel, right across the narrow mouth of the harbor and 
prevent the ships of the Spanish Admiral Cervera from escaping. The 
jjlan was approved by Admiral Sampson. Volunteers were called for 
):o go with Hobson on the dangerous trip and whole cheering crews 
stepped forward for the hazardous adventure. About three hundred in 
the New York, one hundred and eighty in the Iowa and like proportions 
in the other vessels volunteered. Mr. Hobson picked three men from the 
New York and three from the Merrimac. Besides them one man went as 
a stowaway against orders. 

The plan had been well thought out by Lieutenant Hobson, and every 
detail had been foreseen. Sitting in his cabin on the flagship just before 
leaving on his perilous trip, Hobson said : 

'' I shall go right into the harbor until about four hundred yards past 
the EstTe''''a battery, which is behind Morro Castle. I do not think they 
ean sirV me before T reach somewhere near that point. The Memmac has 
1»& 



LIEUTENANT HOBSON. 197 

seven thousand tons buoyancy, and I shall keep her full speed ahead. 
She can make about ten knots. 

" When the narrowest part of the channel is reached I shall put iiei 
helm hard aport, stop the engines, drop the anchor, open the sea ioz^r^ec- 
tions, touch ot' the torpedoes and leave tlie IViei. .::Lac a wreck, lying' 
athwart the channel, which is not as broad as the Merrimac is long. 

TORPEDOES TO MAKE QUICK WORK 

" There are ten 8-inch torpedoes below the water line on the Merri- 
mac's por+ side. They are placed on her side against the bulkheads and 
\ntal spots, connected with each other by a wire under the ship's kee'J, 
Each torpedo contains eigUty-two pounds of gunpowder. Each torpedo i.s 
also connected with the bridge, and they should do their work in a minute, 
and it v/ill be quick work even if done in a minute and a quarter. 

'' On deck there will be four men and myself In the engine room 
there will be two other men. This is the total crew and all of us will be 
in our underclothing, with revolvers and ammunition in the watertight 
packing strapped around our waists. Forward there will be a man on 
deck, and around his waist will be a line, the other end of the line being 
made fast to the bridge, where I will stand. 

" By that man's side will be an axe. When I stop the engines I 
shall jerk this cord, and he will thus get the signal to cut the lashing 
which will be holding the forward anchor. He will then jump overboard 
and swim to the four-oared dingy which we shall tow astern. The dingy 
is full of life buoys, and is unsinkable. In it are rifles. It is to be held 
by two ropes, one made fast at her bow, and one at her stern. The first 
man to reach her will haul in the tow line, and pull the dingy out to star- 
board. The next to leave the ship are the rest of the crew. The quarter- 
master at the wheel will not leave until after having put it hard aport, 
and lashed it so, he will then jump overboard. 

" Down below the man at the reversing gear will stop the engines, 
scramble on deck, and get over the side as quickly as possible. 

" The man in the engine-room will break open the sea connections 
with a sledge hammer, and will follow his leader into the water. This 
last step insures the sinking of the Merrimac, whether the torpedoes work 
or not. 

" By this time I calculate the six men will be in the dingy, and the 
Merrimac will have swung athwart the channel to the full length of her 



198 LIEUTENANT HOBSON. 

three hundred yards of cable, which will have been paid out, before the 
anchors were cut loose. 

" Then all that is left for me is to touch the button. I shall stand on 
the starboard side of the bridge. The explosion will throw the Merrimac 
on her starboard side. Nothing on this side of New York city will be 
able to raise her after that," 

READY TO MEET DEATH. 

" And you expect to come out of this alive ?" asked a companion of 
Mr. Hobson. Mr. Hobson said : 

" I suppose the Estrella battery will fire down on us a bit, but the 
ships will throw their searchlights in the gTinuers' faces, and the}' won't 
:;ee much of us. Then, if we are torpedoed, we should even then be able 
to make the desired position in the channel. It won't be so easy tc hit 
us, and I think the men should be able to swim to the dingy, 1 may 
jump before I am blown up. But I don't see that it makes much differ- 
ence what I do. I have a fair chance of life either way. If our dingy 
gets shot to pieces we shall then try to swim for the beach right under 
?^Iorro Castle." 

Hobson has described his exploit and I will give it to you, said Uncle 
Frank, in his own language. 

" It was about three o'clock in the morning when the Merrimac 
entered the narrow channel and steamed in under the guns of Morro Cas- 
tle. The stillness of death prevailed. It was so dark that we could 
scarcely see the headland. We had planned to drop our starboard anchor 
at a certain point to the right of the channel, reverse our engines and then 
swing the Merrimac around, sinking her directly across the channel. 

" This plan was adhered to, but circumstances rendered its execution 
impossible. When the Merrimac poked her nose into the channel our 
troubles commenced. The dead silence was broken by the wash of a 
small boat approaching us from the direction of the shore. I made her 
out to be a picket boat. 

" She ran clope up under the stern of the Merrimac and fired several 
shots from what seemed to be 3-pounder guns. The Merrimac's rudder 
was carried away by this fire. That is why the collier was not sunk 
across the channel. 

" We did not discover the loss of the rudder until Murphy cast 
anchor. We then found that the Merrimac would not answer to the 



LIEUTENANT HOBSON. 199 

helm, and were compelled to make the best of the situation. The run up 
the channel was very exciting. The picket boat had given the alarm, and 
in a moment the guns of the Vizcaya, the Almirante Oquendo and of the 
shore batteries were turned upon us. 

" Mines and torpedoes under water also were exploded all about us, 
adding to the excitement. The mines did no damage, although we could 
hear rumbling and could feel the ship tremble. We were running with 
our lights, and onl}' the darkness saved us from utter destruction. When 
the ship was in the desired position and we found that the rudder was 
gone I called the men on deck. While they were launching the catama- 
ran, or raft, I touched off the explosives. 

" At the same moment two torpedoes, fired by the Reina Mercedes, 
struck the Merrimack amidships. I cannot say whether our own explo- 
sives or the Spanish torpedoes did the work, but the Merrimac was lifted 
out of the water and almost rent asunder. As she settled down we scram- 
bled overboard and cut away the catamaran. A great cheer went up from 
the forts and war ships as the hold of the collier foundered, the Spaniards 
thinking that the Merrimac was an American ship. 

STRUGGLING FOR LIFE IN THE WATER. 

" We attempted to get out of the harbor in the catamaran, but a 
strong tide was running, and daylight found us still struggling in the 
water. Then for the first time the Spaniards saw us, and a boat from the 
Reina Mercedes picked us up. It then was shortly after five o'clock in 
the morning, and we had been in the water more tlian an hour. We were 
taken aboard the Reina Mercedes and later were sent to Morro Castle. 
In Morro we were confined in cells in the inner side of the fortress, and 
were there the first day the fleet bombarded Morro. I could only hear the 
whistling of the shells and the noise they made when they struck, but I 
judged from the conversation of the guards that the shells did considera- 
ble damage. 

" After this bombardment Mr. Ramsden, the British Consul, pro- 
tested, and we were removed to the hospital. There I was separated from 
the other men in our crew, and could see them only by special permis- 
sion. Montague and Kelly, two of my men, fell ill, suffering from mala- 
ria, and I was permitted to visit them twice. Mr. Ramsden was very kind 
to us, and demanded that Montague and Kelly be removed to better quar- 
ters in the hospital. This was done. 



200 LIEUTENANT HOBSON. 

"As for myself, there is little to say. The Spanish were not dis- 
posed to do much for the comfort of any of the prisoners at first, but, 
after our army had taken some of their men prisoners our treatment 
was better. Food was scarce in the city, and I was told that we fared 
better than the Spanish officers." 

Hobson was asked, "Where were you when the torpedoes and 
mines exploded ? " 

"We were all aft," he said, " lying on the deck. Shells and bullets 
whistled around. Six-inch shells from the Vizcaya came tearing into 
the Merrimac, crashing into wood and iron and passing clear through, 
while the plunging shots from the fort broke through her decks. 

NOT A MAN COULD MOVE. 

" ' Not a man must move,' I said ; and it was only owing to the 
splendid discipline of the men that we all were not killed, as the shells 
rained over us and minutes became hours of suspense. The men's 
mouths grew parched, but we must lie there till dajdight, I told 
them. Now and again one or the other of the men lying with his face 
glued to the deck and wondering whether the next shell would not come 
our way would say : 'Hadn't we better drop oft now, sir?' but I said, 
'Wait till daylight.' It would have been impossible to get the cata^ 
maran anywhere but on to tBe shore where the soldiers stood shooting, 
and I hoped that by daylight we might be recognized and saved. The 
grand old Merrimac kept sinking. I wanted to go forward and see the 
damage done there, where near] \' all the fire was directed. One man said 
that if I rose it would draw all the fire on the rest, so I lay motionless. 

" It was splendid the way those brave men behaved. The fire of 
the soldiers, the batteries and the Vizcaya was awful. When the water 
came up on the Merrimac' s decks tlTe catamaran floated amid the 
wreckage, but she was still made fast to the boom, and we caught hold 
of the edges and clung on, our heads only being above water. 

" A Spanish launch came toward the Merrimac. We agreed to 
capture her and run. Just as she came close the Spaniards saw us, 
and half a dozen marines jumped up and pointed their rifles at our 
heads sticking out of the water. 

" 'Is there any officer in that boat to receive a surrender of prisoners 
of war?' I shouted. An old ni lu leaned out under the awning and waved 
his hand. It was Admiral Carvera. The marines lowered their rifles, 



NATHANIEL, GREENE. 



201 



and we were helped into tlie launch. Then we were put in cells in Morro 
Castle." 

Hobson and his men were afterward exchanged for Spanish prisoners 
the Americans had captured, and they were accorded a wonderful wel- 
come by the public wherever they went. 

QUESTIONS. 

Can you describe th& mouth of Santiago harbor ? What did Hobson 
propose to do to " bottle up " the Spanish fleet ? How many men did he 
take with him ? Can you describe the sinking of the Merrimac ? How 
did Hobson and his men escape death ? Where were they imprisoned ? 
How did they gain their liberty ? What was thought of Hobson's exploit ? 



^<% 



NATHANIEL G-EEENE 



WASHINGTOl^'S FATORITE GElvTERAL. 




NCLE FRANK began his talk by quoting what Wash- 
iugton once said, which was, that if any accident 
should befall him so that he would be unable to lead 
the American army, the one general whom he would 
name to take his place would be Nathaniel Greene. 

When the news of the battle of Lexington reached 
Warwick Count}^, Rhode Island, he was a member of 
the Kentish Guards of Coventry, and with them he 
started at once for Boston , and v,'hen the Tory Gov- 
ernor ordered them back Greene was one of the four who, refusing to 
obey, mounted the first horses they could find and galloped on to Boston. 
At this time he was the foremost man in Coventry, and general in 
his State militia. He had been expelled from the Society of Friends, or 
Quakers, into which he had been bom, because he not only loved military 
life, but was also determined to fight against the armies of Great Britain. 

He had begun life by working on his father's farm and at his iron 
forge, and after working long over-hours to earn money to buy books, he 
had sat up late at night to study them, until he had succeeded in getting 



202 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 



a pretty good education. His knowledge and good sense gained for him 
the respect of all the leading men in and about his town and he had been 
a member of the Rhode Island Colonial Assembly for five years before 
the battle of Lexington was fought and the Kentish Guards starred k- 
the seat of war. The Assembly of Rhode Island soon after raised a force 
of sixteen hundred men, and Greene was by common consent appointed 
major-general. This was in May, 1775, and from that time until the 
army was disbanded at the close of the war in 1783. 

The good effects of hard study in his earlier days now began to be 

seen. He soon mastered 
militar}' tactics, and drill- 
ed his raw troops so very 
well that twomonths iciter, 
when Washington took 
command of the Colonial 
forces, he pronounced the 
troops of Greene " the best 
disciplined in the whole 
army." Washington and 
Greene became fast friends 
from their first meeting. 
The great commander saw 
at once that he could place 
confidence in this young 
Rhode Islander, and he 
'did. 

But during the next 
battle — that of Long Isl- 
GENERAL NATHANIEL GREENE. and — Greene lay help- 

less with an attack of fever, within sound of the firing but scarcely able 
to raise his head from the pillow. This was a greater trial than any he 
ever had on the field. He had made himself thoroughly familiar with 
all the points along the shore. He knew just where the most dangerous 
places were, and just where the strongest blows could be struck better 
than any one else, and now he must lie still and wait for the result. He 
actually cried when told of the Americans' defeat and the great havoc 
made in his own favorite regiment. Just as soon as he dared leave his 
bed, he mounted his horse and again took his command. 




NATHANIEL GREENE. 



203 



When Washington withdrew to White Plains he sent Greene to 
watch Staten Island, and a little later he -was put in charge of the troops 
in New Jersey. When the brilliant dash at Trenton was made Greene 
was Washington's best man, and his assistance at Princeton had much 
to do with that victory. 

While the army was encamped at Morristown, New Jersey, during the 




NOW PUT WATTS INTO THEM, BOYS.' 

second winter of the war, Greene was sent by Washington to Congress to 
set before it the condition of the army and the need of more troops, what 
dangers it would have to meet, and what was needed to prepare for them. 
Only a part of the needed assistance was gained, and the spring opened 
with poor prospects for the patriots. 

In the battle of Brandywine, the first in the campaign of 1777, Greene 
distiu'viiished himself during the retreat of the defeated Americans by his 



204 NATHANIEL GREENE. 

coolness aud firmness iu holding tlic British back from their hot pursuit 
until the disordered ranks could reform Finding a favorable spot iu a 
narrow pass through a thicket, he made a stand and held the pass until 
nightfall. 

It is said that if his advice had been taken, both the defeat at Brandy- 
wine and that at Germantown, immediately after, might have been avoided. 
He was asked to .'Jelect places for the army each time, and chose strong 
ones where they could have held their ground against attack, but his ad- 
vice was overruled b}'' other generals, who were anxious to fight in the 
open field, and defeat was the result. When the army went into camp al 
Valley Forge, during the third winter of the war, Greene was madf 
quartermaster-general. 

The battle of Alonmouth was their first engagement after breakinjj; 
camp. It was here that Lee, disobeying Washington's order, began th^ 
retreat, Avhich but for General Greene would have been carried out with 
great loss to the Americans. Greene promptly came up with his force, 
and, seeing that Lee's action prevented him from carrying out his own 
orders, he resolved to act quickly, without direction, and took a good 
stand wliere he could stop the course of the enem}^ which was moving 
upon Washington's troops in great force. In this he drew a large part 
of them away from their attack on Washington toward himself, but his 
men met their furious charge with the same steady nerves aud ccol de- 
termination showed by their commander. 

THE CHAPLAIN HURRIES TO GET WADDING. 

At one stage of the battle the wadding of the men gave out, and 
Caldwell, chaplain of one of the regiments, mounting his horse, galloped 
to the Presbyterian church, and returned with an armful of Dr. Watts' 
hymn books, which he distributed among the troops, with the pious in- 
junction, " Now put Watts into them, boys 1 " 

The Americans held their ground and poured voile}'- after volley into 
the British ranks until they were glad to draw back. That night the 
Americans slept upon the ground with their arms at their sides as they 
had fought ; the next morning, when the daylight appeared, the British 
were nowhere to be seen, 

Greene's next active service was at Newport, wliere he was sent tc 
assist vSullivan iu an attack upon the Briti.sh. Here he again held his 
ground again.st the British regulars until they were forced to retire 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 205 

Theu the American force marched to a place of safety before the British 
ivere ready to make auother attack. This, too, was iiuder very imfavora- 
ble circumstances, for there had been a disagreement between General 
Sullivan and the French commander, D'Estaiiig, and the Frenchman had 
left the Americans in such danger that thc}^ were very angry. Sullivan 
prepared a sharp letter to send to Congress, and Washington ordered 
Greene to go to Congress and try to make peace between Sullivan and 
D'Estaing. 

Greene arrived on the same morning that Sullivan's letter came. In 
the gallery sat D'Estaing, the French Minister, and some other distin- 
guished Frenchmen. As the Clerk was opening the letter, Greene, who 
sat near the President, hastily Avrote to him on a slip of paper, " Don't let 
that letter be read until you have looked it over." The President Avhis- 
pered to the Clerk not to read it, other business came up, and the oifeusive 
letter was not read. If it had been, probablj- tlie French would have 
refused at once to help the Americans any more. A few words in time 
had saved to the nation its greatest ally, and Greene returned to camp. 

HIS ENEMIES COULD NOT HARM HIM. 

During the months that followed, very little fighting was done by an v 
of the forces, and the idle hands found mischief, as they always do. Envy 
and jealousy broke out among the officers. Greene, as well as Washing- 
ton, had some very active enemies. He was accused of using his office of 
quartermaster for his own profit. Congress took the matter up, and 
Greene was asked to give an account of all his property. He easily 
proved that these statements were false, but he deeply resented them and 
soon resigned the office of quartermaster. In less than six months his 
slanderers had reason to wish they had kept still and let his management 
alone. 

In the early part of 1780 Washington left Greene to guard Spring- 
field, New Jersey, while he moved north to protect West Point, which the 
British seemed to be threatening. As soon as Washington was well on 
his way the British suddenly turned and marched toward Springfield five 
thousand strong. Greene had but two brigades and a small body of mili- 
tia — thirteen hundred in all. But he placed these in svich good position, 
and roused them to such a firm spirit of resistance, that me British were 
obliged to return t~) Elizabethtown. 

Then there came auother period of rest. Washington went to Hart- 



206 NATHANIEL GREENE. 

ford to consult with the French generals and left Greene to take charge 
of the army and to keep him informed of all that went on. With a way 
of learning about everything that went on at the British headquarters at 
New York, Greene soon discovered that something was going to happen. 
He wrote to Washington about it, but said that the success of the plan 
seemed to depend on keeping it a secret. 

Two days later the secret was out. It was Benedict Arnold's plot to 
let the British into West Point. Andre was captured ; Greene presided 
over the court that tried him and signed the death-warrant, although he 
would gladly have made the sentence lighter if he had thought it right. 

RAW MILITIA, BUT GREAT FIGHTERS. 

He was then put in charge of West Point. Soon after this the seat 
of war was changed to the South, and there Greene was sent before long 
to take the place of Gates, the victor of Saratoga, after his sorry defeat at 
Camden in the midsummer of 1780. 

Greene found his command in a miserable condition. The term of 
most of the men had expired, so there was really no army and no sup- 
plies, and Congress was out of money with which to provide any of these. 
But gradually a small force, mostly raw militia, was collected, and with 
these Greene did some of the most brilliant fighting of the war. He 
gained no great victories — his forces were too weak for that — but by 
watchfulness and activity he turned even his defeats to good account ; he 
took advantage of every mistake ; he hung over all the enemy's move- 
ments, ready to strike an unexpected blow ; he chased them here and 
there, and at last compelled them to leave the whole country — Georgia 
and the Carolinas — and to shut themselves up in Charleston. 

The battle of Eutaw Springs, from which the retreat into Charleston 
was made, was one of the severest battles of the whole war. It was hard 
to say which side gained the victory ; the British clairned it, but they were 
glad to leave the field as soon as possible after it was over. They 
retreated to Charleston, and at last their power in the South was broken. 
Thus, " by sheer caution, activity, and perseverance, and without winning 
a single victory, Greene had almost cleared the South of the enemy." 

The surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown, which occurred about two 
months after this, brought an end to the war in the North, but there was 
still trouble in the South. For more than a year longer Greene was 
obliged to be constantly on the watch for sallies from the British garri 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 207 

sons ; his own army was in the greatest distress much of the time ; they 
had no food and were forbidden by the Legislature of South Carolina to 
supply themselves by foraging ; they had hardly rags enough to cover 
them ; sickness broke out and finally mutiny. A second act of treason 
was found out just in time to save the loyal soldiers from a combined 
attack by the British and the rebelling Americans. 

Finally, the Southern Army saw the last of the English Army depart 
from Charleston. It entered the city amidst great rejoicing, while the 
praises of General Greene resounded through the country and even across 
the Atlantic. As a soldier and a man, he is ranked above every other 
officer in the Revolution, excepting the great Commander-in-Chief But 
there was still another long delay before the needy army was disbanded 
and Greene was free to return to his home. Even then it was not to settle 
down to the comfort that he had justly earned. 

HONORS CONFERRED ON GREENE. 

When the Legislatures of Georgia and the Carolinas first met, after 
the battle of Eutaw Springs had made it safe for them to do so, they 
showed how much they valued General Greene's services by voting him 
large sums of money and lands. These he had pledged to secure food and 
clothing for his army, but the greater part was swept away by the false- 
dealing- of one in whom he had trusted. With the little that was left he 
settled with his family in Georgia in the spring of 1785. The next year, 
while walking out in the rice-field, he had a sun-stroke which caused his 
death within a week, 

Nathaniel Greene was bom in Warwick, Rhode Island, May 27, 1742. 
He died on his estates near Savannah, Georgia, June 19, 1786. 

QUESTIONS. 

Who was Washington's favorite General ? What did Greene do 
when ordered back from Boston by the Tory governor ? Can you describe 
Greene's operations in New Jersey ? Can you describe Greene at the bat- 
tle of Brandywine? What did Chaplain Caldwell do to furnish the 
American soldiers with wadding ? What did Greene do with the letter 
written by Sullivan to Congress ? Why did Greene have enemies ? Can 
you describe Greene's successes in the South ? What rank did Greene 
take as a General ? When and how did his death occur ? 



OARPE:t^TERS' HALL 



AND THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS. 




HERE is a famous old building in Philadelphia, said 
Uncle Frank, that I would like to tell you about. To 
me it is a most interesting place. 

What building is it ? Elsie asked. You have 
already told us about Old Independence Hall. 

This building, said Uncle Frank, is Carpenters' 
Hall. It is one of the most interesting of the many 
historic structures in Philadelphia, for here the first 
Continental Congress was assembled in 1774, that 
body which Lord Chatham is said to have characterized as " The most 
honorable assembly of men that had ever been known." 

COMPANY FORMED TO HELP THE POOR. 

The First House Carpenters' Company in the city was formed in 
1724, for obtaining instructions in architecture and assisting widows and 
children of poor members. In 1752 another Carpenters' Company joined 
it, and \:i 176S a lot, 66 by 255 feet, was purchased on Chestnut street, 
below FoLirth, fir an annual ground rent of 176 Spanish dollars. The 
liall was built at the extreme rear of the lot, and subsequently a part of the 
Chestilut .-itrect front was sold, leaving only a small alley for entrance. 

Although the Hall was begun in 1770, the lack of funds prevented 
its completion until 1791. However, enough of the building was erected 
ri- 1 77 1 for the Carpenters' Company to be enabled to meet there. 

A conference of committees from all parts of the Province of Penn- 
sylvania met in Carpenters' Hall July 15, 1774, and passed resolutions 
asserting the rights of the colonies, condemning the conduct of Parlia- 
ment and recommended that delegates to Congress be appointed. The 
same year the First Provincial Assembly and the First Continental Con- 
gress met there. 

On September 5, 1774, the delegates from eleven Provinces, who had 
been summoned to take defensive measures, arrived in the city, and assem- 
208 



CARPENTERS' HALL. 



209 



bled, for want of a better place, at the Old City Taveru, then on Second 
street, above Walnut. While the delegates were there woilI was brought 
that the use of Carpenters' Hall had been offered by the coiupauy, and the 
Congress approved the offer and adjourned to the then new hall. Here 
the Continental Congress remained until October 26, when, the State 
House being put at their disposal, they finished their memorable first 
session in the larger building, where liberty was yet to be cradled. 

In the First Continental Congress were some of the greatest men 
in the country, 
men whose 
lames are fore- 
■nost in our his 
Utry as a nation, 
.'j.nd men worthy 
of all the praise 
Iword Chatham 
bestowed upon 
liliem. Among 
(hem were 
Washington, 
Patrick Henry, 
Richard Henry 
Lee and Pe5'^ton 
Randolph, of 
Virginia ; Mifflin, Ross 




carpenters' hall, PHILADELPHIA. 



and Dickinson, of Pennsylvania; the two 
Adamses, from Massachusetts, and Charles Thomson, who was Secretary. 
The Congress assembled in the first story of the hall, and there the 
Rev. Dr. Duche offered his celebrated prayer and read the collect of the 
day, the'XXXVth Psalm, which latter seemed so appropriate. 

The Philadelphia Library occupied the second floor of the building 
from 1775 until 1791, when it removed to its new building on Fifth street, 
and during the Revolution the library was used as a hospital for soldiers. 
During the British occupancy of the city, in 1777, the soldiers used the 
building, as they did all public edifices in Philadelphia. 

In 1827 a Hicksite Society of Friends used the Hall as a meeting 

house, and then for many years the first floor was an auction room. The 

Carpenters' Company resumed possession of their old building in 1857, 

restoring it, so far as possible, to its original appearance, and since then 

14 



210 CARPENTERS' HALL. 

it tas remained in -the society's possession, and used only as a historic 
museum, second only to Independence Hall. 

During the occupancy of the building the Pennsylvania Bank was 
robbed, in 1798, of $162,821.61, and the case has remained as one of the 
celebrated affairs in the city's romances of crime. Pat Lyon, a well-known 
blacksmith and famous maker of fire engines in those days, was employed 
to make two doors for a vault of the bank. When the money was dis- 
covered to be missing Lyon was promptly arrested. The only evidence 
against him was that he was widely known as a skilled mechanic. He 
was imprisoned in the Walnut Street Jail, where yellow fever victims 
were claimed daily. 

iPROVED TO BE INNOCENT. 

Although protesting his innocence and giving a straightforward ac- 
count of himself for every hour of the day when the robbery occurred, he 
was held in 1150,000 bail, in default of which he languished in a fever 
ridden jail. The real robbers, a bank porter and a carpenter, subse- 
quently confessed, and Lyon was released. He brought suit and got 
judgment for $12,000. A new trial was granted in 1807, and he was 
awarded $9,000 nearly nine years after his arrest. 

QUESTIONS. 

Where did the first Continental Congress meet in Philadelphia? 
What year was that? Can you describe the location of Carpenters' Hall? 
Who were some of the great men of the country that attended this Con- 
gress ? Who made the opening prayer ? What Psalm did he read ? 
When was the building occupied by the British ? Can you describe the 
robbery of the Pennsylvania Bank when it occupied this building ? 



LIFE-SAVING MEN 



THE HEEOES OF THE SEA. 




LiLi the men in our country who wear medals, said Uncle 
Frank, do not belong to the army and navy, and all 
the bravery of American manhood was not confined to 
our war with Spain and the Filipinos. 

As the firemen are heroes, so are the life-savers. 
Theirs is the more fearful work, for there is none to 
look on and encourage. The cries of friends in the 
live streets below are not there for encouragement to 
noble deeds, the wail of humanity giving strength to 

bravery is not theirs. They fight alone, in the cold, usually in the dark. 

They leave every foothold of defense and dare an enemy who has no 

mercy, an enemy whose weapons are winds and waves. 

THEY FACE DANGER TO SAVE THE SHIPWRECKED. 

Theirs is not the bravery which lasts the hour out, and then goes 
home to luxury and applause. Year by year they face those giant seaS; 
waiting that mocking cry of Death, which comes howling at them through 
the storm ; until that wild laugh of power comes shrieking to them 
through the teeth of an icy gale. 

They know the task before them ; they are not men who mock dan- 
ger, who laugh and think heroism a cheap and easy thing. They launch 
their cockle shell out on those giant seas and know, every man of them, 
that chances are against them. As they work, their purse strings do not 
grow longer ; they, like the firemen, receive a mere pittance compared with 
what they ought to receive, but they face danger and do great and glorious 
things because of the noble blood in them. 

The United States has divided the sea coast and lake shores into 
twelve life-saving stations. Out of the dozen superintendents two have 
been drowned, one very nearly so and another sacrificed his life to the cold 
and exposure. Four deaths out of twelve persons is a heavy mortality. 

So great did the splendid heroism of these men become by 1874 that 

211 



212 



UFE-SAVING MEN. 



the United States authorized an award of medals for bravery. The first 
were awarded to two English crews for rescuing the crew of an American 

ship, and 
Spai': sent 
medals to a 
little band of 
men at Hog 
Island, Va., 
for saving the 
crew of the 
ship Albano 
at fearful risk. 
Many of 
tiienien along 
the New Jer- 
sey coast have 
medals, and 
right well 
l];-.ve they de- 
served them. 
Christopher 
Ludlam, of 
Hereford In- 
i.'t, was decor- 
ated for run- 
ning a boat 
out through a 
great gale and 
snowstorm to 
the rescue 
o f a lime 

schooner ; she was stranded and afire, and there was no sane reason for 
one of that little body of rescuers ever coming back alive ; but there was 
an insane risk and they took it and did come back, not only with them- 
selves, but the men they went to get. 

John C. Patterson and crew, of Shark River, have medals for work. 
As Patterson started to launch the surf boat a messenger ran to hi . v;.. 
the news of a dying brother beseeching that he come to his deathbed. 




GALLANT RESCUE BY A LIFE-GUARD. 



LIFE-SAVING MEN. 213 

Patterson stood a moment with liis hand on the gunwale of the cockle 
shell ; the crew stood respectfully silent ; then the keeper threw back his 
head and said as simply as if superintending a pleasure jaunt, "shove 
her in." 

Chadwick and his crew, on Mantoloking, have received medals for 
their great endurance, fighting for the life of every man on a pitching, 
sinking schooner, and Valentine and crew, of Monmouth Beach, modestly 
show their medals. Theirs was a glorious triumph. They saved the 
crews of two vessels, bringing every sailor to shore. The boats had to 
fight their way through pitching wreckage. Each man used his individ 
ual judgment and strength ; it was a soul-stirring time and the work tha' 
each man did that day was sufficient to put down to the credit of an able 
bodied man for a lifetime of endeavor. ^ 

The Thanksgiving game of the students at Northwestern University 
is one to be remembered in the annals of the history of the brave, 

TERRIBLE STRUGGLE WITH THE STORM. 

There is a station at Bvanston, 111., and every surfman outside the 
keeper is a student of the university. As some one expressed it : " It is 
the kind of college team that has the waves of Lake Michigan for a play- 
ground, human lives for a goal and the winds and waves for umpire." 

The story of their great game is that early one morning word came 
to them of the going down of a steamer at Fort Sheridan, twelve miles 
away. They made their way to the beach with the lifeboat; the vessel 
was being pounded to pieces looo yards from shore. The gale was some- 
thing fearful, the mercury was below 30 degrees, snow and sleet were 
blinding and choking eyes and throat. 

The team had to take their boat down a ravine, a gorge that was in 
itself a fearful obstacle to their path. Soldiers came over from the fort 
and dug out footholds for them in the ice down the steep sides of this 
ravine. 

Three times did the boat fill and four times did keeper and crew turn 
it over and start it off again. Out they went on the fourth trial, and they 
pulled with the strength of demons, or athletes. It was forced toward the 
wreck inch by inch ; it was a hand to hand struggle with the elements. 
At last they reached the vessel, their clothing frozen stiff, their spirits 
boiling. 

Six men were rescued on the first trip and back, and then back they 



214 



Lii-E-SAVING MEN. 



went until every life was saved. Crew and rescuers had to be rescued 
back to life when all was over, but there were hundreds of glad hearts and 

loving hands to 
do it. They 
had won their 
great game, and 
besides the roar- 
ing huzzas of 
the great uni- 
versity came 
the seven gold 
medals from the 
I United States 
Government. 

Life saving 
men seem not 
to know what 
fear is. They 
never earn the 
term coward, no 
matter what 
duty is to be 
performed, no 
matter how well 
they know 
death waits for 
them at the 
other end of the 
line. They fol- 
low behind their 
red rocket's 
glare with the 
energy of the 

SAVING THE CREW OF AN OCEAN WRECK. tockct ; they gO- 

out into space with a silent prayer that they may be returned to shore. 

Jerome G. Kiah, superintendent of Sand Beach, Michigan, was one 

of the conspicuous figures in the service. He alone remained from a 

splendid crew, and it seemed that he, too, had better have been taken than 




LIFE-SAVING MEN. 215 

left, for his mind was wrecked for months. But, "happily, mental 
powers were restored later. He has been given the Michigan post as 
another reward for bravery, beside the gold medal by his appreciative 
country. 

He was then keeper of the station at Point Aux Barques, on Lake 
Huron. The vessel was out of line reach, and the keeper knew the hope- 
lessness of a surf boat in that sea, but he ordered it out and took an oar. 
In the open lake the storm was not to be dealt with, no boat could live in 
it. Over and over went the surfboat, losing a man each time. Those 
who could cling on soon gave way through numbness. Kiah was by that 
time insensible. He never remembered how he kept his grip. When 
people found him he was supporting himself against the root of a tree on 
shore — a raving lunatic. ' 

It is the custom of the life savers to make the attempt to reach a ves- 
sel regardless of how certainly they think they must be lost. 

HE WENT TO SURE DEATH. 

One poor keeper gave up on account of the frightful seas on the Cape 
Cod coast and was forced to know that whole year that a volunteer crew 
had succeeded in saving the wrecked vessel's crew. It wrecked his life, 
for the villagers mocked him, and then one awful night he went out in the 
howl of an inshore gale, behind the rocket's flare to the line where 
another rocket glared. 

No human being could have lived in that sea, and he knew it. The 
villagers never laugh now at his memory. 

That is all the fearful side of it — but the bright side is with the res- 
cued and the statistics of lives and property saved. 

So the life savers are not only " heroes of peace," but great property 
savers. No one who has ever lived ou the coast can help that little shud- 
der in the shriek of the gale as one fancies one hears the rattle of the life- 
boat as she makes her way down to the surf, or restrain the quick prayer, 
not only for the crew of a distressed vessel, but for the little band of six 
men that seem to be always going out at some point on our great coasts — 
out into the blackness of a gale-swept ocean on a mission of which it has 
been said, " Greater love hath no man than this." 

When Uncle Frank had finished his story, James said he had been 
much interested. Not more than we have, said Mabel, sneaking for her- 
self and Elsie. 



216 I.IFE-SAVING MEN. 

I have a poem here, said Uncle Frank, written by Minnie Mackay 
that I would like to read to you. 

THE LIFE BRIGADE. 

Hark ! 'mid the strife of waters 

A shrill despairing cry, .'- 

As of some drowning sailor -■.■ 

In his last agony 1 \ 
Another 1 and now are mingled 

Heart-rendering shrieks for aid. i 

Lo ! a sinking ship. What ho I arouse, I 

Arouse the Life Brigade ! ■-. 



-H 



They come with hurrying foot-steps ; 

No need for a second call ; '*■ 

They are broad awake and ready, \ 

And willing one and all. 1 

Not a hand among them trembles, I 

Each tread is firm and free, ' 

Not one man's spirit falters 

In the face of the awful sea. 

Yet well may the bravest sailor 

Shrink back appalled to-night 
From that army of massive breakers 

With their foam-crests gleaming white, J 

Those beautiful, terrible breakers, i 

... ■ ' 

Waiting to snatch their prey, ^ 

And bury yon hapless vessel 

'Neath a monument of spray I ■■ 

But rugged, and strong, and cheery 

Dauntless and undismayed, j 

Are the weather-beaten heroes 

Of the gallant Life Brigade. j 

" To the rescue ! " shouts the leader, - 

Nor pauses for reply — 1 

A plunge ! — and the great waves bear him • 

Away to do or die I 



LIFE SAVING MEN. 217 

The whole night long, unwearied, 

They battle with wind and sea, 
A.11 ignorant and heedless 

Of what their end may be. 
They search the tattered rigging, 

They climb the quivering mast, 
And life after life is rescued 

Till the frail ship sinks at last. 

The thunderous clouds have vanished, 

The rose-fingered morn awakes, 
While over the breast of ocean 

The shimmering sunlight breaks ; 
And the Life Brigade have finished 
- The work God gave them to do. 
Their names are called. "Any missing ? " 

Mournful the answer — " Two I " 

Two of the best and bravest 

Have been dragged by the cruel waves 
Down to the depths unmeasured, 

'Mid thousands of sailor graves I 
Two lives are given for many ! 

And the tears of sorrow shed, 
Should be tears of joy and glory 

For the grandeur of the dead I 

QUESTIONS. 

What can you say of the bravery of the life-guards ? How many 
life-saving stations have we in the United States ? Who are some of the 
men that have won medals ? Can you describe the rescue made by 
students of the Northwestern University? What can you say of the 
hardships and sufferings of the life-guards ? Can you tell the story of 
the superintendent of Sand Beach, Michigan? Can you repeat any part 
of the poem entitled the Life Brigade ? 



GEN. JOHN a FREMONT 

THE GREAT PATH-FINDER. 




HAT a big country ours is, said James. 1 was reading- 
what a large part of it lies West of the Mississippi 
River. 

I must tell you something about the discovery of 
this immense territory, said Uncle Frank, and in 
order to do that I must tell you the thrilling stor}' of 
General Fremont. 

He was a remarkably bright boy, and at the age 
of fifteen entered Charleston College, South Carolina. 
For two or three years after leaving college he was a teacher of mathe- 
matics on some of our naval schoolships. 

HE MARRIES JESSIE BENTON. 

The interest in opening up the country and building railroads had 
grown very fast, and Fremont decided to leave the sea and become a Gov- 
ernment surveyor and civil engineer. He helped to lay out the railroad 
routes through the mountain passes of North Carolina and Tennessee, 
and after that he was one of a party that explored some of the then 
unknown sections of Missouri. Before this latter work was finished he 
was promoted to the rank of second lieutenant of the map-making or 
topographical engineers; and three years later, when he was twenty-eight 
years old, he had an unlooked-for appointment from the Government to 
explore and survey the Des Moines River. 

Mr. Fremont was deeply in love just then with young Miss Jessie Ben- 
ton, a daughter of a United States Senator from Missouri. Her parents 
were much opposed to having her marry a Government ofiBcer; so it was 
with a heavy heart that the young man set out for the frontier wilderness 
of Iowa, and the land of the Sacs and Fox Indians along the Des Moines 
banks; but he did his work well, and when he returned in the fall the 
Bentons agreed that since he was in every way worthy as a man tb''" 
would forgive his being an ofi&cer and consent to the mamage. 
218 



GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 819 

This happy event was of importance to more people than themselves 
alone; for by her energy and powers of mind Mrs. Fremont was not only 
a direct help to her husband in carrying out the most important explora- 
tions ever made under the United States Government, but she cheered 
and encouraged him to keep up heart and push on through many years 
of work and hardship, often clouded by inj ustice and disappointment. 

FROM MISSOURI RIVER TO THE PACIFIC OCEAN, 

The expedition to the Des Moines settled the purpose of Mr. Fre- 
mont's life. He then learned enough of the great Western country to know 
that the Government and the citizens who were gathered along the Atlan- 
tic seaboard really knew almost nothing of the truth about the unin- 
habited portions of their land; that the extravagant tales which had been 
told by adventurous traders and travellers were mostly false ; that proba- 
bly a great portion of the country could be used for farm lands and manu- 
facturing towns; and that railway routes could probably be laid across 
the whole continent. 

Filled with a desire to open up these treasures of knowledge, he ap- 
plied to the War Department for permission to survey the whole of the 
territory lying between the Missouri River and the Pacific Ocean. The 
request was granted and means provided for an expedition to be fitted 
out, especially to find a good route from the Eastern States to California, 
and to examine and survey the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains — the 
great crossing-place for emigrants on the way to Oregon. It was his own 
wish to have this order, for he knew — though he did not then say so — 
that if the Government had this particular section explored and surveyed 
it would fix a point in the emigrants' travel and also show an encouraging 
interest in their enterprise. 

On the 2d of May, with his instructions and part of his supplies, 
Lieutenant Fremont left Washington for St. Louis, which was then a 
good-sized town on the border-land of the Western wilderness. There he 
collected his party and finished fitting out the expedition. About twenty 
men joined him — mostly Creoles and Canadians who had been employed 
as traders for fur companies and who were used to the Indians and all the 
hardships of the rough life they should have to lead. 

Besides these men, he had a well-known hunter, named Maxwell, for 
their guide, and the celebrated mountaineer, Christopher Carson — or Kit 
Carson, as he was usually called — who was both bold and cautious, and 



220 GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 

knew more about the West than almost any hunter in the country. This 
was the little band that, armed and mounted, set out with their gallant 
leader on his first great exploring expedition. 

They found him a man full of determination and self-reliance, having 
skill and patience and many resources, and who grew stronger in his 
purpose when perils and discouragements lay in his path. His men were 
well chosen, spirited, and adventurous, while most of them were a] so 
hardy and experienced. 

Most of the party rode on horseback, but some drove the mule carts 
that carried the baggage, instruments, and what food it was thought nec- 
essary to take along. Tied to the carts were a few loose horses and some 
oxen to be killed on the way for fresh meat. 

PUSHED ON INTO THE WILD COUNTRY. 

After they had crossed Missouri and reached Chouteau's Landing — 
where Kansas City now stands — they felt that their journey was really 
begun. Starting here at the mouth of the Kansas, they followed its 
winding course across the northeastern corner of Kansas State, and 
pushed on into Nebraska until they reached the barren banks of the 
Platte. Then they followed that stream, taking the direction of the 
Southern fork, when they reached the division, and following where it 
led almost to Long's Peak. 

Then they changed their line of march, and keeping near the banks of 
the Northern fork, pushed on to Fort Laramie. This was reached in safety 
in the middle of July, the travellers having had only one great buffalo fight 
and one encounter with the Arapahoe Indians in the course of their 
journey. The meeting with the Indians turned out a friendly one, though 
it would not have been so but for Maxwell, who had traded with the tribe, 
and knowing the warri6rs, shouted to the leader in the Arapahoe lan- 
guage just in time to prevent a fray. The chief was riding on furiously, 
but at the sound of words in his own speech from the white men, he 
wheeled his horse round, recognized Maxwell, and gave his hand to Fre- 
mont in a friendly salute. 

At Fort Laramie reports were heard of trouble among the Indians 
and white people between the Platte and the Rocky Mountains, a"nd the 
explorers were told that their lives would be in danger if they went any 
further west until matters were quiet again. But Fremont and his men 
thought that probably the stories were exaggerated, and resolved not to 



GENERAL JOHN 



FREMONT. 



221 



be daunted bv 
them. So, after a 
few days of rest, 
they got ready to 
start cut. Just as 
they were about to 
depart,four friend- 
ly chiefs appeared 
with a letter, warn- 
ing Fremont of 
danger from bands 
of young wan'iors 
if he went further. 
He received 
I heir warning very 
'.-espectfully, as 
',«^ell as thanking 
i.hcm for their 
srindness, and also 
I nade a pretty little 
i.peech in answer 
lo theirs: " When 
you told us that 
your young men 
would kill us," he 
said, " you did not 
know that our 
hearts were strong 
and you did not 
see the rifles which 
my young men 
carry in their 
hands. We are 
few, and you are 
many and may kill Indians surprised and defeated. 

us, but there will be much crying in your villages, for many of your young 
men will stay behind, and forget to return with your warriors from the 
mountains. Do you think that our great chief" — meaning the Pre.si 




222 GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 

dent — " will let his soldiers die and forget to cover their grr -"'es ? Be- 
fore the snows melt again, his warriors -will sweep away your villages 
as the fire does the prairie in the autumn. Sec I I have pulled down my 
white houses, and my people are ready ; when the sun is ten paces higher 
we shall be on the march. If you have anything to tell us you will say 
it soon,'' 

The chiefs were not expecting such words in reply, but they liked 
the bold spirit of the white man from the Bast, and what they soon had 
to say was that they would send one of their young warriors to guide the 
party. It was a little favor of only one man, but it was everything to the 
explorers, for — as both they and the Indians knew — his presence in the 
party was sure protection for them against all the savages they might 
meet. Fremont heartily accepted the courtesy, and at evening the com- 
pany set out for the distant region of the Rockies. 

LIKELY TO DIE FROM STARVATION. 

Now their real difl&culties began. Soon they entered a most deso- 
late country, where, the interpreter assured them, they were likely to die 
of starvation if they went very far. They had only food enough left to 
last for ten days, and the gallant leader called his men together and told 
them that he intended to push on, but that all who wished to had his 
permission to turn back. " Not a man," he says, " flinched from his un- 
dertaking." One or two, who were not very strong, he sent back to the 
nearest fort, but the rest kept close to him till their aim was reached. 
" When our food is gone, we'll eat the mules," said one of them. 

The most diflBcult part of the whole expedition was now ahead of 
them, and it was necessary to go as lightly weighted as possible ; so they 
hid all the luggage they could spare in the bushes or buried it in the 
billows of sand that were banked up near the Wind River. Then they 
carefully removed all traces of what they had done so the Indians would 
not discover their stores and steal them. A few days' march brought 
them to the water-shed of the Pacific and Mississippi slopes, and then to 
the object of their search — the great, beautiful South Pass. 

Instead of the rocky heights they had expected, they saw a gently 
rising sandy plain stretched beyond the gorge, and the much-dreaded 
crossing of the Rockies was an easy matter. Entering the Pass and 
going up into the mountains, they found the sources of many of the great 
rivers that flow to the Pacific. Further on, they discovered a beautiful 



GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 223 

ravine, beyond whicli lay the fair water called Mountain Lake — " set like 
a gem in the mountains," and feeding one of the branches of the Colorado 
River. 

The expedition had now fulfilled its orders from the Government, but 
the leader did not give the word to return until he had gone up the lofty 
height of Wind River Peak — now known as Fremont's Peak — that stands 
in majestic grandeur near the Pass. The summit was reached after a 
most difl&cult climb, and Fremont himself was the first white man to stand 
on its narrow crest and to look out upon the country from the highest 
point in the Rocky Mountains. 

On one side lay numberless lakes and streams, giving their waters 
into the Colorado, which sweeps them on to the Gulf of California ; in the 
other direction he saw the lovely valley of the Wind River, the romantic 
home from which the Yellowstone carries its waters to the Missouri, away 
to the east ; in the north he saw the snow-capped summits of the Trois 
Tetons, where the Missouri and the Columbia rise, and the lower peaks 
that guard the secret of the Nebraska's birth. 

GRANDEUR OF AMERICAN SCENERY. 

Between, beyond, and all arouud were lesser peaks, gorges, rugged 
cliflFs, and great walls of mountain rock broken into a thousand bold, fan- 
tastic figures, and standing up in weird and striking grandeur. A thou- 
sand feet below him, steep, shining ice-precipices towered above fields of 
snow gleaming spotless white. " We stood," said Fremont, " where 
human foot had never stood before and felt the thrill of first explorers." 

When the travellers were again at the base of the peak and all their 
explorations and discoveries had been carefully noted, and their specimens 
of rock, plants, and flowers gathered together, they turned their faces 
homeward. They found their hidden stores, made up their train once 
more, found the camp of the men who had remained behind, and, glad with 
their success, took up the eastward march. 

A full report of the expedition was soon sent to Congress, and in a 
short time Fremont's discoveries became a subject of great interest in 
both Europe and America. From Fremont's Peak he had brought some 
of the flotvers that he found growing beside his path, a bee that had flown 
up to them soon after they reached the summit, the rocks that formed the 
peak, and the rugged shelving mountain above which it reared its icy, 
snow-capped head. Over the whole course of his extended trip, he 



224 GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 

obtained the height both of plains and mountains, latitude and longitude ; 
he reported the face of the country, whether it was fertile or barren, 
whether travelling over it was easy or difficult, and the practicability of 
certain routes for public highways. 

The grand features of nature were clearly described in fitting lan- 
guage, and in some cases he illustrated them by drawings. Military 
positions were pointed out, and in all other ways a thorough examination 
and survey was made of a vast portion of the national possessions which 
up to this time had been unused, unknown, and unappreciated. 

GENERAL FREMONT STARTS ON ANOTHER JOURNEY 

Europe and America praised the manner in which the expedition had 
been managed, and the Government, well pleased with the wonderful 
results he had obtained, appointed Lieutenant Fremont to set out on 
another journey at once and to complete the survey between the State of 
Missouri and the tide-water regions of the Columbia River. 

This was just what he wanted to do. A trip to the top of Wind 
River Peak and back had but revealed to him what vast secrets of the 
Western country there were j'et to be discovered, and he lost no time in 
getting ready to return. With some of his old companions and several 
new ones, he soon made up a band of about forty men, who left Kansas 
with him just one year after the first expedition had started. The route 
this time lay in a northwesterly direction — before it had been almost due 
west. 

In four months they travelled over seventeen hundred miles, reaching 
the Great Salt Lake early in the autumn, and before winter began they 
had found the Columbia and followed it to its mouth. The same careful 
observations and surveys were taken along the route of this journey as 
had made the other so valuable, especially in the region of the Great Salt 
Lake, about which no true accounts had ever been given before. 

Although Fremont had fulfilled the orders of the Government when 
he reached the mouth of the Columbia, this was really but a small part of 
what he intended to do upon this expedition. The vast region beyond the 
Rocky Mountains — the whole western slope of our continent — was but lit- 
tle known then in any way, and not at all with accurate, scientific know- 
ledge. This, Fremont longed to go through and explore. At first he 
intended to begin doing so by returning home through the Great Basin — 
now Utah — between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada ; but he 



GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 925 

took another direction finally — a route through almost an unknown region 
between the Columbia and Colorado — that led them further west, showed 
them California, and resulted at a later time in securing to the United 
States that rich country, which was then owned by Mexico. 

The colfl winter came on almost before they had started, and they 
had not gone far before they found themselves in a desert of snow where 
there was nothing for either men or horses to eat, while between them and 
;he fertile valleys of California was the rugged, snow-covered range of the 
Sierra Nevada Mountains. They tried to get some of the Indians to show 
them the way over this great barrier; but the savages declared that it 
jould not be crossed — no human being had ever crossed it, and no guide 
would consent to go with them for any amount of money. But they said 
there was an opening further south, and gave Fremont some directions as 
to where it might be found. So the party took the risk of guiding them- 
selves and kept on in their cold and desolate march. When they reached 
the pass it was only to see toward the west a still greater range before 
them. It was plain that they would get lost if they attempted to push on 
alone, and they had gone too far now to turn back. At last they found a 
young Indian who for a very large present would undertake to guide 
them. 

On the ist of February they started out, and after a terrible journey 
>f forty days they reached the Sacramento River, and a comfortable rest- 
iiig-place at Sutter's Fort, the place where gold was found four years 
'.iter. Half of their horses had perished, and the men were so weak and 
.hin that it was two months before thej' were able to go on again. 

THE EXPEDITION RETURNS HOME. 

Fremont did not attempt to go any further into California ; but when 
spring opened and the men were well enough to travel, gave the word for 
home. They crossed the Sierra Nevada, and making their route as nearly 
due east as possible, they passed by the Great Salt Lake, crossed the 
Rocky Mountains through the South Pass, halted at several places they 
liad become acquainted with before, and reached the Kansas country in 
]n\y. There the ground was known to them, and the rest of the journej^ 
was quite smoothly and quickly made. 

By midsummer Fremont had reported himself to the Government 
and was once more with his family. He learned then that a letter of 
recall had been sent to him after he startedj but shat his wife held it 
15 



226 GENERAL JOHN C FREMONT. 

back, seeing that it was upon some false charges made by his enemies at 
Washington. So he had really made this journey' as a fugitive, but Mrs. 
Fremont's act was approved when her husband returned with a name thai 
went over Europe and America for the great and vahiable discoveries liu 
had made in the northwest territory and the terrible hardships he had 
endured to make the expedition successful. 

FREMONT'S LOG FORT ON HAWK'S PEAK, 

• In spite of the efforts that were made against him by some political 
opponents, Congress accepted his labors, gave him another appointment, 
and when he again went out — which was as soon as his reports were fin- 
ished — it was with the rank and title of captain in the United States 
Engineers. His object this time was to find out more about the Salt 
Lake and other portions of the Great Basin, and to explore the coasts of 
California and Oregon. After several months of discovery and carefu'i 
surveys of the streams and watersheds between, he again crossetl the 
Sierra Nevada in midwinter and went down into the rich and beautiful 
country lining the Pacific shore. 

This territory was then held by the Mexicans, and while he left his 
men at San Joaquin to rest, Fremont himself went on to Montere}', the 
capital, to ask of Governor Castro permission to explore his country. 
The request was granted at first, but as news of the war between the 
United States and Mexico arrived just then, the permission was recalled 
with orders that the travellers leave the country at once. But this the 
dauntless captain did not intend to do, so he built a rude fort of logs in a 
strong position on the Hawk's Peak Mountain, about thirty miles from 
Monterey, and with his sixty-two men waited for an attack from the 
Mexican forces, which under General Castro encamped themselves in the 
plain below. 

They watched him for four days and then, deciding hot to hght, al- 
lowed him to go on his way through the Sacramento Valley to Oregon. 
Before he had gone very far, he was met by a party that had been sent 
out to find him, with orders from the United States to act for his nation 
in case Mexico should form a treaty with England to pass California into 
the hands of Great Britain. 

General Castro soon threatened to attack the Americans settled along 
the Sacramento, but before he had time to do so. Captain Fremont 
marched rapidly to their rescue collecting them in his band as he went 



GSNSRAL JOHM C. FREMONT. 227 

along, so that by the montli of July the whole of northern California had 
passed out of the hands of the Mexicans and into those of the United 
States, and Fremont, the conqueror, was made governor of the land and 
raised to the rank of lieutenant-colonel in tne army. 

Meanwhile the Government had resolved to make a sweeping con- 
quest of the rest of the territory, if possible, and have our possessions 
extend from ocean to ocean. Commodore Sloat, who commanded the 
United States squadron of the Pacific, seized Monterey, where Fremont 
soon joined him with a hundred and sixty mounted riflemen ; and at about 
the same time there arrived Commodore Stockton of the navy with orders 
from Congress to conquer California. The Mexicans still held the south- 
ern portion of the territory, but the towns of San Francisco, Monterey, 
and Los Angeles were all taken without much resistance, and at the end 
of six months Upper California was surrendered to tlie United States. 

When this was about completed General Kearney arrived with a 
force of dragoons, and disputed Commodore Stockton's right to be mili- 
tary governor of the territory. A quarrel arose, in which Fremont took 
the side of the commodore, who had made him major of the California 
battalion, and civil governor of the country ; but when the matter was 
carried to Washington and settled by the Government 'in favor of 
Kearaey, he recognized his position and obeyed his orders. But the 
general would not forgive his former allegiance to Commodore Stockton, 
and arrested him and made him return to Washington with his own men 
by the overland route, treating him very disrespectfully all the way. 

WOULD NOT ACCEPT OFFERED PARDON. 

" M}^ charges," said Fremont, " are of misconduct, military, civil, 
political, and moral, and such that, if true, would make me unfit to be 
anywhere outside of prison." He demanded a trial by court-martial, 
which might have cleared him if he had taken pains to get evidence upon 
his innocence ; but as he did not, he was pronounced guilty of mutiny and 
disobedience and ordered to leave the Government service. 

But the court requested President Polk not to confirm their verdict ; 
he did not, and granted Fremont a pardon, with permission to keep' his 
position in the army. This he would not accept ; he refused to receive as 
a favor that to which he had a right, or to go about as an officer pardoned 
of offenses he had never committed. So he resigned his commission, and 
at the age of thirty-five became a private citizen. 



228 



GENERAIv JOHN C. FREMONT. 



Althoiigh lie was still a young man, it seemed to him, for a time, that 
he had nothing to look forward to in life ; but he soon made up his mind 
to undertake another exploring expedition. This had to be on his own 
responsibility and at his own expense ; but he soon succeeded in getting a 
party together and fitting it out. 

He was doubly anxious now to find some good routes from the States 




THE LAVA BEDS IN THE NORTH-WRST. 

to the new possessions on the Pacific, for in February of this year — 1848 — 
gold had been found on the Sacramento River, and many people A\-ere 
already starting out to dig for the precious ore. So far there was no 
direct route to California. A long and dangerous journey across Kansas, 
Colorado, Utah, and Nevada, and through the Rockies and Sierras could 
be made by land, or a voyage by way of the Isthmus of Panama could be 
made by water. These were the best possible ways of getting there. 

Fremont's desire was to find a route which could be made into a safe 



GENERAL JOHN C FREMONT. 229 

and direct pujlic line of. travel, and it was witli this object in view that he 
soon started out with his little band. This time he went to the South, 
crossing the nortliern part of Mexico, and following the Rio Grande del 
Norte toward California. The beginning of the journey as far as Santa 
Fe was made successfully ; but from there it became a tour of distress — 
the saddest Fremont ever undertook. The route lay through a conntr}' 
inhabited by Indians then at war with the United Suites, which was dan- 
ger enough ; but added to this, winter was just coming on, and while they 
were in the most perilous part of their journej-, among the snow-covered 
Sierra, the guide lost his way. Finall}^ the}' were forced to turn back, 
but before tliej'' could get to vSauta Fe, one-third of their men had died of 
cold and hunger, and all of theif mules and horses had perished. 

Even this terrible experience did not alter Fremont's resolve to find 
if possible a southern pass to the Pacific coast. He hired thirty new men 
to go with him, and once more .set out, more determined to succeed t.liau 
ever. After a long search he was rewarded, for in the spring of 1S49— 
when the gold fever was getting to its height — with the cruel Sierra be- 
hind him, he again came in sight of the Sacramento River. 

GOLD HUNTERS IN CALIFORNIA. 

Two years before he had bought a very large tract of land, on which 
tliei'e were rich gold mines, and he had resolved, when he left the States, 
to remain upon these after he had found a southern pass, and not go back 
to the Bast to live. So now he settled down, worked iiis nn'nes, and began 
to prepare a home for his famil}-. 

The enthusiasm about gold was drawing thousands of men to the 
Territory from all parts of America, and from Europe, so that California 
soon had enough people to become a State. Fremont took a great deal 
of interest in this growth in the country he l-.ad discovered to the United 
vStates and won for the Government, and he worked vcr}- earuestl}^ to 
liave it made a free State. ]\Ieanwliile he was not forgotten at Washing- 
ton. President Tajdor soon called upon !iim to run a boundary line be- 
tween the United States and Mexico, and wlicii that v.as done, California 
h.aving been taken into the Union, he was chosen by the Legislature to 
represent the new vState in the Senate at the national capital. 

It was duiing this term that the King of Prussia and the Royal 
Geographic;'' t}- of London awarded him the honor of their medals 

for his services as an explorer. 



280 



GENERA Iv JOHN G. FREMONT. 



He went to Europe after liis term was over, and was treated with 
great respect by many of the most eminent people of the time. Mr. Fre- 
mont spent a few years at about this time in looking after his own affairs, 
but he had not yet given up exploring the great territory of the West. 
When — on his return from Europe — he found the Government preparing 
to survey three railroad routes across the continent, he again fitted out 
an expedition of his own to find a good southern route to the Pacific. 
This time he was successful. 

He went without much difficulty to the place were the guide had lost 

his way in the 
expedition of 
184S, and, fol- 
lowing the 
course, which 
had been de- 
scribed to him 
by the moun- 
t a i n me n 
whom he ask- 
ed, he finally 
succeeded in 
picking out a 
route of safe 
passes all the 
way to the 

HUMBOLDT PALISADES, PACIFIC RAILWAY. GoldcU State. 

But this was not secured without terrible hardships. The country was 
barren, bleak, and cold ; the provisions of the party gave out, and for 
fifty days the men lived on the flesh of their horses. Sometimes they had 
nothing at all to eat for forty-eight hours at a time. 

Progress, too, was slow. For awhile they only made a hundred miles 
in ten days ; and so deserted was the region that for three times that dis- 
tance, they did not meet a single human being, not even a hardy Indian, 
for the winter was unusually severe and even the savages did not venture 
far into the dangerous passes, where the air was full of snow and fogs. 

In this terrible distress Fremont feared that his men would be tempted 
to eat each other ; and so he called them to him one day, and in the solemn 
stillness of the great ice mountains he made them take off their hats, 




GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 231 

raise their hands to heaven and swear that they would instantly shoot the 
first man that should attempt to appease his hunger with the flesh of a 
comrade. 

Little by little they kept pushing on; and at last all obstacles were 
overcome, the fair California valleys were reached, and the jaded, frost- 




CHEYEUNB INDIANS INSPECTING FIRST TRAIN ON THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. 

bitten band entered San Francisco. One man only was missing. He, 
poor fellow, was courageous to the last, and died like a soldier, in his sad- 
dle; and like a soldier his comrades buried him on the spot where he fell. 

The rest, though worn almost to skeletons, survived ; and Fremont 
forgot his sufferings in the joy of having gained the object of his journey. 
He had found for a certainty that a railroad could be built over the road 
he had taken, and that was a success of so great value to the nation that 
even the winter of distress to himself and his band and the sad loss of one 
brave man was a small price for it. 

The Central Pacific Railroad was begun in a few years ; and the re 
gion being richly stored with vast quantities of iron, coal, and timber, 
the woikmen were supplied with much of their materials as they went 



232 GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 

along. In a dozen years more the great task was completed, and cars 
were running from East to West, carrying tourists and emigrants by the 
thousands and spreading prosperity and civilization to the benefit of, not 
this nation alone, but of all people in the civilized world. The Northern 
and the Southern Pacific roads have followed the first one, opening up 
other sections, and calling forth and using the resources of the land all 
the wa}' across the continent, placing our country first among all coun- 
tries in several of the most important articles in the world's commerce. 

Among all the men who have devoted themselves to the success «f 
these roads, there is no one to whom the nation owes more than to 
Fremont — who first surveyed the regions— northern, central and southern, 
and who well merits the honor of the title, the " Path-finder of the Rocky 
Mountains." 

The survey of the Central Pacific was the last great exploration of 
his life. In 1856 he was almost elected President by the then new Re- 
publican party, in the contest with James Buchanan ; he was also named 
for the next President, but withdrew in favor of Lincoln. At the begin- 
ning of the Civil War he was made major-general in the army, and dur- 
ing the first year had command of the Department of the Mississippi. 
He lost this because he ordered that slaves should be freed b}- all in his 
district who were in arms against the Union. President Lincoln thought 
he was taking the step too soon, but gave him another command a few 
months later, from which he resigned in June, 1862, and left the conflict 
entirely. 

Mr. Fremont was born at Savannah, Georgia, January 21, 1813. 
Died July 13, 1890. 

QUESTIONS. 

At what age was Fremont when he went to college ? What did he 
do after he left college ? Whom did he marry ? Can you give an account 
of his first expedition ? What was his object in making it ? How man}^ 
men did he have ? What can you say of his guides ? Who warned him 
of his danger ? What was his reply ? Can you describe Fremont's Peak ? 
Can you give an account of his second expedition ? Can you describe the 
suflFerings of Fremont and his party ? What part of the country did he 
explore ? What about Fremont and the Mexicans ? How long after his 
explorations before railroads were built across the continent ? When was 
Fremont a nominee for the Presidency ? Where and when was he bom ? 
When did he die ? 



HAYES AND HALL 

CELEBRATED AR(JTIC TRAVELLERS. 




<) ERHAPS 110 greater heroes ever lived, said Uncle Frank 
as the jfoung folks sat down beside him, than the men 
wlio have made journe3'S into the far North. They 
have encountered dangers and met with hardships that 
arc enough to make one shudder even by reading 
about them. I wish to tell you this morning of two 
famous explorers, and I will take them one at a time. 
T have already told you of Dr. Kane and his won- 
derful Arctic voyages. The next party that left the 
United States for the Arctic regious, the north-east coast of America, was 
commanded by Isaac I. Hayes, who was surgeon on the Advance in Dr. 
Kane's last expedition. He, too, liad returned with the rescue party, 
firmly believing that an open Polar sea had been found, and he began at 
once to plan another expedition to make sure of this and to push othei 
discoveries into the mysteries of the North. 

BEGAN YOUNG AS AN EXPLORER. 

Dr. Hayes was also a Pennsylvania man and had graduated from the 
Medical School of the University of Pennsylvania the year in which he 
started out with Dr. Kane. He was only twenty-one years old then, but 
he showed that he had the enterprise and the ability tLat is necessary to 
make a good explorer. More than one of the sledge-journeys made from 
the Advance were in his charge, and he also did some of the most import- 
ant chart-making work of the expedition. So, when he wanted to make 
up another party, his plan was eucoirraged by the Government, and some 
v)f the most important scientific societies in the world including the Smith- 
sonian Institution. Five years aftc^' the second Grinnell Expedition 
returned, and three year'? after Dr Kane's death, he set out from Boston 
Harbor much better prepared for his undertaking than any former Amer- 
ican expedition had been. 

S33 



234 HAYES AND HALL. 

The hardships which make up so large a part of the story of all 
Northern explorers fell in full share upon Dr. Hayes and his little band 
in the schooner United States. Such trials as were described in the 
account of Dr. Kane's journey have been the experiences of all who have 
ventured within the icy region of the Arctic circle, either for the help of 
men or the cause of science. Ice, snow, bitter cold, and often fatigue, 
hunger, want of sleep, and lost bearings make the frame in which the pic- 
ture of all that they have done is set. But to balance these trials, the 
explorers have found a great deal in those northern seas that is more 
grand and wonderful than the sights of any other part of the world. 

GLORIOUS PICTURE IN THE POLAR WORLD. 

Off the coast of Greenland Dr. Hayes wrote : " It is midnight ; the sea 
is smooth as glass, not a ripple breaks its surface, not a breath of air is 
stirring. The sun hangs close upon the northern horizon ; the fog has 
broken up into light clouds ; the icebergs lie thick about us ; the dark 
headlands stand boldly against the sky ; and the clouds and bergs and 
mountains are bathed in an atmosphere of crimson and gold and purple 
most singularly beautiful. The air is warm almost as a summer night at 
home, and yet there are the icebergs and the bleak mountains. The sky 
is bright, soft, and inspMng as the skies of Italy ; the bergs have lost 
their chilly appearance, and, glittering in the blaze of the brilliant hea- 
vens, seem in the distance like masses of burnished metal or solid flame." 

In the midst of this glorious picture, the good schooner sailed on, to 
Proven and to Upernavik, from whence she headed north to Tessuissak — 
" the place where there is a bay."' Six weeks from the time she left Bos- 
ton, the party, now larger bj^ several natives, hunters, and Danish sailors 
taken aboard at Greenland, entered Melville Bay in a thick snow-storm. 
Pretty soon they had to build their snow-houses, set up their stations, and 
make the regular preparations for winter. 

In the spring they worked their way further northward up Smith's 
Sound. Then taking a companion and starting out on a sledge-journey 
Dr. Hayes went over about the same route he had followed before on one 
of his journeys from the Advance. All the way he made careful observa- 
tions, especially to correct errors that he found in the charts made on the 
last trip. Pushing up Kennedy's Channel he finally got beyond the lim- 
its of the former discoveries, and reached the lower cape at the entrance to 
Lady Franklin Bay. This was a point forty miles further than that 




MARVeLUOUS SCENB IN THS ARCTIC REGIONS. 



235 



236 HAYES AND HALL. i 

:* 

attained by Dr. Kane on the opposite shore, when he had explored the i 

east and Dr. Hayes the west shore of this channel — which they both ; 

believed led to the Open Polar Sea. At this place — which he named Cape j 

Lieber — he unfurled several United States flags which had been given him \ 

to open at the most northerly point iu his journey. '. 

He did not find a clear sea here ; but the ice was thin and decayed, J 

and he felt sure that open water lay beyond, though it was then impossi- I 

ble for him to push an}' further North to prove it. After making a great , 

many careful scientific observations, he started back to the schooner, : 

which passed the early part of the summer in Hartstene Bay, while the i 

party spent most of the time in making discoveries round about them, * 

watching the action of the tide and stud3dng the habits of the Esquimaux, j 

START ON THEIR HOMEWARD JOURNEY. \ 

In the middle of July the schooner broke out of the ice, and the \ 

homeward journey was begun. For a long distance Dr. Hayes surveyed ;, 

the coast as he went, gathering specimens of plants and natural history I 

and all the scientific information possible. At last the vessel was out of 1 

the Arctic regions, and a direct route was taken for Boston. He reached j 

port after an absence of fifteen months, and found the country resounding ' 

with the news of war, the battle of Ball's Bluff having been fought a few i 

days before the party landed. : 

Dr. Hayes at once offered his vessel and himself to the Union cause, s 

and it was not until after the conflict was over that he brought out the nar- J 

rative of his journey. This book, which is called the " Open Polar Sea," i 

was thought so well of that the royal geographical societies of both London % 

and Paris awarded gold medals to its author, while many other honors J 

were paid him for his valuable services to the cause of science and geo- '• 

graphical knowledge. -' 

Two 3'ears after this book was published Dr. Hayes again went to \ 

Greenland, and explored the south coast of that countr}^. He then studied • 

the regions of the north for the sake of their beauty and historic interest ; 

more than for scientific knowledge. He observed the great Greenland gla- "j 

ciers and icebergs, visited the places were the Northmen had their colonics ■ 

in olden tini; s, and finally took his vessel — a steam j^acht called the Panther ^ 

— up into the much-dreaded ice-pack of Melville Bay. Accounts of this ! 

journey are given in the book entitled " The Land of Desolation." .1 

After his return he went into politics, and was for a time a Member ,; 



HAYES AND HALL. 287 

if the New York Legislature, although he never lost his interest in the 
Airctic regions, nor ceased to write about them. 

Dr. Hayes relates an adventure he had with Walruses. One day he 
md his party came upon a large herd, and wounded one old bull with a 
aarpoon, when all turned at once upon their enemies. 

That they meditated an attack, says Dr. Hayes, there could be no 
ouger doubt. To escape the onslaught was impossible. We had raised 




THE WALRUS OF THE ARCTIC SEAS. 

I hornet's nest about our ears in a most astonishingly short space of 
:ime, and we must do the best we could. Even the wounded animal tc 
A^hich our boat was fastened turned upon us, and we became the focus oi 
it least a thousand gaping, bellowing mouths. 

It seemed to be the purpose of the Walruses to get their tushes on 
.he gunwale of the boat, and it was evident that in the event of our hav- 
ng such monster tushes on us, the boat would be torn in pieces, and we 
rould be left floating in the sea helpless. All this gave motive, there- 



238 HAYES AND HALL. 

fore, to be active. One of my men plied his lance from the bows, and 
gave many a serious wound. The men pushed back the nearest with 
f their oars, while others loaded and fired as rapidly as we could. 

Several times we were in great danger, but the timely thrust of an oar, 
or the lance, or a bullet, saved us. Once I thoiight we were surely gone. 
I had fired, and was hastening to load; a wicked-looking brute was nish- 
ing at us, and it seemed probable that he would be upon us. I stopped 
loading, and was preparing to cram my rifle down his throat, when a 
sailor, who had got ready his weapon, sent a fatal shot into his head. 

MOUTH WIDE OPEN AND BELLOWING. 

Again an immense' animal, the largest I had ever seen, and with 
tusks apparently three feet long, was observed to be making his way 
through the herd with mouth wide open, bellowing dreadfully. I was 
now, as before, bitsy loading; the other rifles had been discharged, and 
the men were well engaged with their oars. It M-as a critical moment, 
but, happily, I was in time. The monster, his head high above the boat, 
was within two feet of the gunwale, when I raised my piece and fired into 
his mouth. The discharge killed him instantly, and he went down like a 
stone. 

This ended the fray. The herd suddenly lost courage, and all dove 
down with a tremendous spla.sh'; and when they came up, although still 
shrieking, they were some distance from the boat, with their heads pointed 
seaward. A dozen had been killed and many more wounded. The bull 
to which we were made fast pulled away with all his might after the 
retreating herd; but his strength failed, the line was hauled in, and he 
Avas soon approached near enough to use the lance. 

I never before regarded the Walrus as a very formidable animal ; but 
this contest convinces me that I have done their courage great injustice. 
They are full of fight; and had Ave not been very active and self-possessed 
our boat would have been torn to pieces, and we either drowned or killed. 

Dr. Isaac Israel Hayes was born in Chester County, Pennsylvania, 
March 5, 1832. He died in New York City, December 17, 1881. 

A few weeks after the United States bore Dr. Hayes and his party 
away from Boston Harbor on their scientific voyage to the Polar Sea, 
another expedition left New London, Connecticut, to renew the search for 
Sir John Franklin. This was a simple affair of two men, Charles Francis 
Hall and a native Esquimaux for an interpreter. 



HAYES AND HALL. 239 

Mr. Hall was a noble-hearted, energetic man of Cincinnati, an en- 
graver by trade, poor, and about forty years old. Since the first Grinnell 
Expedition went out be bad been deeply interested in every attempt that 
had been made to find the lost explorers, and soon after the failure of Dr. 
Kane's heroic effort, he came forward with a new plan by which he felt 
sure they could be discovered ; for Mr. Hall — like many others — still 
finni\ believed that some of the party at least were living, although 
sixteen years had then passed since they left Kngland. The plan which 
he proposed for finding them was, for the rescue party to go prepared to 
live just as the natives lived, and to travel about with them over the 
country where it was supposed that Sir John was lost. 

While he was thinking this over he heard that the British relief ship 
Resolute had been laid up as a hull in the Mediterranean, and he decided 
to make an effort to secure it and begin preparations. He interested 
Governor Chase, of Ohio, and several prominent citizens enough to get 
them to sign a petition to the British Government for the use of the ship 
to take him to join Sir Francis McClintock, an Englishman who had 
gone on a search expedition a little more than a year before. 

HEARTY RESPONSE TO APPEALS. 

He then sent out a circular calling upon all lovers of man and science 
to assist in fitting out this expedition. Leaving Cincinnati soon after 
that, he came to the Eastern cities, visited Mr. Grinnell, the relatives of 
Dr. Hayes, and several others who had taken an interest in former expe- 
ditions, who met his efforts with a hearty response. 

In the midst of their active preparations word came from England 
that McClintock had returned with the good news that he had found 
traces of the lost party in King William Land. In a tin cylinder, under- 
neath a pile of stones, he had found a paper which stated that Sir John 
Franklin and twenty-six of his men were dead. But one hundred and 
thirty-seven had gone out, and hopes of finding the others now helped to 
speed on Mr. Hall's plan very swiftly. 

Mr. Grinnell again lent his aid, and a generous firm of New London 
offered free passage for the expedition as far as Northumberland Inlet, 
on their whaler, the George Henry. On this Hall set out on the 29th of 
May, i860. His outfit was small but complete, and His only companion 
was an Esquimaux man, who had come down to New England from 
Greenland on the George Henry's last trip. It was a tiny expedition, 



240 



HAYES AND HALL. 



but not a weak one, for Hall was a host in liimself. as lie afterwaid 
proved. 

Difficulties began at the outset. The Esquimaux died soon after the 
vessel left port ; head-Minds made her tardy in reaching her winter quart- 
ers, and during the winter Mr. Hall lost his expedition boat, which was 
all that he had depended on for reaching King William Land from North- 
umberland Inlet. Nothing could now be done without a new outfit, and 





ESQUIMAUX IN HIS WATER-PROOF CANOE. 

is it was several months before the whaler could get out of the ice, he had 
time to study the Esquimaux language and to make several sledge jour- 
neys into the interior so as to get some idea of what experiences were 
before him. 

In these he gained a great deal of useful knowledge about the country 
made friends with some of the people, and carried on some very valuable 
scientific explorations. His companions on these sledge journeys were 
A very intelligent Esquimaux man and his wife" — "Joe and Hannah" he 



HAYES AND HAI.L. 241 

named them — and another man whom he had befriended. The woniai! 
used to track the snow in front of the dog team while her husband drove, 
and at night she would start the light in the stone lamp to dry the wet 
clothing, while the men built the snow hut for their shelter. 

They were out forty-three days on the first trip, and Mr. Hall 
learned from that how many days would have to be spent in the future — 
making but little progress, suffering greatly from cold and hunger, and 
having nothing to eat but frozen whale-hide. But in spite of these suf- 
ferings he was encouraged to go on with his plans. 

Gradually the winter passed away ; spring came, and then the sum- 
mer, in which the captain of the George Henry had expected to sail for 
home. But the ice-pack still held her fast, and there was nothing to do 
but remain until the next summer, when she might be freed. Before 
that time came provisions began to fail, and the second winter would have 
.seen suifering for food, if Hall had not been able to go to the natives and 
ask for provisions whenever the larder was empty. 

In this way he kept the party alive. Then, when the men on ship- 
board fell sick of the scurvy — a disease that attacks almost every explor- 
ing party in the north country — he had them taken to live in the huts, 
where they soon got well on the native " igloo " food. This proved that 
his idea that the white men could live with the Esquimaux was correct. 
During this second fall and winter he made many short excursions iato 
the country, and in the spring he set out on a long tour of two montlis. 

HOME AGAIN FOR FRESH SUPPLIES. 

In August — after a stay of two years — the George Henry was re- 
leased from the ice and started for home, carrying Hall back in quest of 
fresh supplies and another boat. He now felt sure of siiccess. 

Hannah and Joe returned with him on a visit to the United States, 
bringing their baby and seal dog with them. They were very much in- 
terested in all the wonders of civilization that they saw ; and the people 
of civilization were equally interested in them. 

Mr. Hall found it very hard work to fit out his second expedition. 
The long and costly conflict of the Civil War had begun while he was 
away; and the Government had more expenses than it could comforta^ '; 
meet already, and many of the people who had given money for the sea: <j h 
before, now felt too poor to do so. He was not discouraged, and soon 
managed by lecturing to earn funds enough to | 



H-f-t-i 



fr>,- . 



16 



242 HAYES AND HALL. 

The Monticello, a whaler bound for the regions about Hudson's 
Straits, offered him free passage for the little part}^ and the outfit, and in 
that vessel they started in Jul}^, 1864. They made a direct route to Fro- 
bisher's Bay, and there took on board four Esquimaux, with their wives 
and sledges, who, with Joe and Hannah, were to be Mr. Hall's companions 
after he left the vessel. 

Through some mistake in the reckoning, instead of landing the trav- 
ellers at the mouth of the Wager River — from which Mr. Hall intended to 
journey by boat to Repulse Bay and be ready to start in the spring for 
King William Land^the captain let them off forty miles south of the 
mouth of the river, which made it impossible to reach Repulse Bay that 
fall. It took them nine months to get to their proper landing-place, and 
then they had to wait till spring before setting out for Repulse Bay. 
Thus a whole year was lost. 

WOULD NOT GIVE WAY TO DISCOURAGEMENTS. 

But Mr. Hall did not lose heart. He lived with the natives as one 
of them, and in the spring of 1865 again started northward — not on a 
smooth, rapid journey, but on a slow, vexatious one. His Esquimaux 
companions felt none of his anxiet}^ to hasten onward, and sometimes they 
would not travel more than two or three miles a day. This was an 
unlooked-for trouble, but, while it greatly hindered his work, it did not 
thwart him entirely. 

One day, as the little party was journeying along, they met a band 
of natives who had seen Franklin. They described him and showed arti- 
cles that had belonged to some of his men. They said that the ship was 
crushed in the ice and that some of their boats were found with dead men 
in them. This information made Mr. Hall more anxious than ever to 
push on ; but the Esquimaux still dallied, stopping on one pretext or 
another after every little march. Even the faithful Joe and Hannah were 
swayed by the superstitions of their countrymen, and with them, at last, 
refused to go any further. The end of the second season found them back 
on Repulse Bay — " disappointed but not discouraged,'' wrote Hall in his 
diary. 

The next spring he made a final and resolute start for King Williar.i 
Land, taking with him this time only Joe and Hannah, a white man 
named Rudolph who had gone with him from the whaler, and one of the 
Esquimaux who was more docile than the rest. As he neared Ig-loo-lik, 



HAYES AND HALL. 243 

in Melville Peninsula, the natives told him that white men had often beer 
seen there ; and a little further on he discovered a place where a tent h^^d 
been made, but he found no records. 

The winter was spent on the Peninsula, and the next summer he 
reached the long-desired King William Land. Here he found some of the 
remains of the missing party, and learned that the Erebus and Terror, Sir 
John's vessels, had made the north-west passage and perished there. 

So at last he had succeeded in learning the fate of the unfortunate 
party. He found some articles that thej^ had left, learned that there were 
books and records further on, and wanted to go in search of them and the 
bodies of the explorers, but his companions refused to go with him, and 
he had to give it up. Making his way southward, just below Repulse 
Bay, he took passage in a whaler, bound for new England; in the early 
part of 1869, with Joe, Hannah, and a little adopted child, he landed 
at Bedford, Massachusetts, with precious relics of the lost Englishmen. 

FARTHER NORTH THAN ANY EXPLORER HAD BEEN. 

He went straight to New York, and within a month was at work for 
another expedition — this time to find the North Pole and also to get the 
Franklin records about which the natives had told him. Lectures and 
writings awoke a great deal of interest in his project. Congress voted 
fifty thousand dollars for it; and in June of 1871 the Polaris left New 
York with a party of able, scientific men and a good crew, placed by the 
Govei-nment under the command of Mr. Hall. By the end of i^ugust 
they had reached a point further north than any white man had ever yet 
been, and in a few months they set out on a sledge-journey toward the 
Pole, finding the country warmer than they had expected, and abounding 
in game. 

It was too near winter to press all the way on, but they returned to 
the Polaris well satisfied with their survey, and much surer than before 
that they should finally succeed; but the night they returned to the ves. 
sel, Captain Hall was taken with an attack of apoplexy, and in two weeks 
he died. 

Charles F. Hall was born in Rochester, New Hampshire, some time 
in the year 1821. He died on the steam-tug Polaris, in Newman's Baj', 
on the west coast of Greenland, November 8 1871, 



ROGER WILLIAMS 

AlsTD THE PILGRIMS. 




•' OOD-MORNING, Uncle Frank, said the young folks, 
as tkey came bounding out on the la^¥n and seated 
themselves under the big elm tree. 

You may well call th. ^ a good morning, was 
Uncle Frank's reply. I have been listening to the 
birds since 6 o'clock, and it is very sweet music. 
What shall we talk about to-day ? 

The old Puritans, said James. Tell us about the 
Pilgrims, and how the people lived in the early days 
of New England. The girls were eager to hear the same story and Uncle 
Frank cleared his throat and began. 

The most important colony that settled in New England was a band 
of Pilgrims, who, driven from their native land on accoimt of their reli- 
gion, first sojourned in Holland, and then embarked for America. The}' 
landed at the place which John Smith had already named Plymouth on 
the 2ist of December, 1620. 

FAMOUS LEADERS OF THE PILGRIMS. 

The leaders were the courageous, energetic soldier. Miles Standish, 
who was the military leader of the Pilgrims in their wars against the In 
dians ; John Carver, who was chosen governor after the landing, and 
managed the affairs of the colony with care and wisdom for the four months 
that he lived; and William Bradford, who was elected governor after 
Carver's death, and held that office for over thirty years. 

But probably the greatest man among the New England settlers was 
Roger Williams, who did not come to America until a little more than ten 
years after the Pilgrims landed, Hfe was a scholarly young Welsh cler- 
gyman, who had been educated for the Church of England at Oxford 
University, but had become a Puritan of the stanchest kind. He was 
already quite famous, and a> first the people welcomed him and his wife 
244 



ROGER WILLIAMS. 245 

very cordially. But they soon felt that he was not severe enough in his 
ideas, so he had to leave Boston, and went to Salem. 

There, too, he made enemies because he did not think just as the 
authorities did about some church afifairs, and he was forced to leave that 
place also. One of liis great " errors " was that he said the authorities 
had no right to punish any people for not going to church or for wanting 
in their way the liberty that the Puritans themselves had come so far to 
secure. The Salem people were very angry at him when they sent him 
away, but after a couple of years he was called back and was installed as 
pastor of their church. 

MEN SHOULD HAVE LIBERTY. 

Meanwhile he had been at Plymouth, and had become well acquainted 
with the Indians, learning their language, and also some of their griev- 
ances. He boldly said that the King of England had no right to give 
away their land to white people, without first paying them for it. This 
and the freedom with which he still spoke his mind about the rulers and 
magistrates having no right to interfere with the religious beliefs of the 
people were more than the rigid Pilgrims could stand, and before long they 
said so, and gave him just six weeks in which to leave the colony. This 
time was afterward lengthened to several months. Williams improved it 
by spreading his doctrine as fast as he could and announcing that he him- 
self would start a colony in which people might believe as seemed to them 
right and not after the law of any council. 

The rulers heard of this and decided to send him at once to England, 
but they did not succeed in doing so ; for he was warned by his friends 
just in time to make his escape. It was in the middle of a bleak, cold 
New England winter ; but there was no time to lose, and so, leaving his 
wife and children behind in safety, he fled from Salem to find refuge in 
the wilderness. 

Snow lay thick i.oon the ground, marked here and there with the 

footprints of wild beasts. He could hear their voices, too, at night as he 

rouched in the shelter of some hollow tree or lay in the smoky hut of 

-ome of the friendly Indians, from whom he also begged his food, " They 

were," he said, " the ravens that fed me in the wilderness." 

In his other exile at Plymouth, Williams had known Massasoit, the 
great Indian king ; he had then made him presents and shown him much 
kindness, for he felt that the white men owed a good deal to the r«d 




246 KOOBR. WILLIAMS SEEKdNG RSFUGE AMONG THE INDIANS, 



ROGER WILLIAMS. 



247 



Americans whose country they had taken possession of. Remembering 
this former friendship he now went to Massasoit in his distress. 

The g^eat chief had not forgotten his kindness and welcomed him 
right royally to his camp. In the spring he gave him a tract of land by 
the side of the Seekouk River, near the place now known as Manton's 
Cove, and here the fugiti\e preacher resolved to make his home. 

He had left Salem all alone, but five others had now joined him, and 
together they began to build a cabin and plant corn. But soon word 
came that the}' were still on Plymouth soil. Governor Winthrop, who 
.vas secretly a friend to Williams, sent a letter advising him to move to 
the other side 
of the water, 
where he 
might have 
the whole of 
the countr}' 
before him, 
aud be as free 
as they were. 

So, in a 
short time, he 
took leave of 
'us fields of 
sprou ting 
corn and his 
unfinished landing of roger Williams at providence. 

cabin and with his five companions set out in a canoe in search of a place 
where lie could establish a free government, and afford a home to those 
who were persecuted because of their opinions. 

At last a favorable place was found on the west side of the peninsula 
near the mouth of the Moshassuck River — the place where the city of 
Providence now stands. Roger Williams gave it this name " because," 
he said, " of a sense of God's merciful providence unto me in my distress.'' 

When he drew up the plan of government for the new settlement he 
resolved to have it a liberal one. Providence he desired should be " a 
shelter for persons distressed for conscience." All who should come to 
live there would be asked to promise obedience to laws for the public 
good, but '' only in civil things.'' 




248 



ROGER WIIvLIAMS. 



The settlement was hardly begun before Williams had a chance to 
heap coals of fire on the heads of the magistrates who had driven him from 

Salem. The 
Pequot In- 
d i a n s had 
made an at- 
tack on some 
of the settlers 
and were try- 
ing to induce 
the N a r r a- 
gansetts — a 
very large 
and powerful 
tribe — to join 
them in a 
general mas- 
sacre of all 
the white peo- 
ple of the 
Plymouth 
Colony. As 
soon as the 
rulers heard 
of this they 
were in great 
fright. 

Peace must 

be made with 

the red men 

in some way, 

__ or the Pil- 

PEQUOT INDIANS IN COSTUME. glimS WOuld 

be entirely destroyed. There was but one white man in the country 
who knew these Indians well enough to have any influence with them. 
Thai was iRoger Williams. So they sent to him — away out in the wil- 
derness to wliich he had fled from their persecutions — and begged him to go 
to tiie camp of tlie Narragansetts and induce them not to join the Pequots. 




ROGER WILLIAMS. ■» 24!i 

It was a bold request to make of a man ou whom they had turned as 
an enemy, especially as he would have to risk his life if he undertook the 
journey ; but Roger Williams was too noble to refuse even this sacrifice 
for the sake of so many others, and he lost no time in setting out. He 
found the Pequots already there, when he reached the dwellings of the 
Narragansetts, and their stirring appeals to their kindred to rise and kill 
the white men who were fast robbing them of their hunting-grounds and 
the burial-places of their fathers had almost persuaded the cooler Narra- 
gansetts to join them. 

Williams went at once to the dwellings of the sachems and spent 
three days and three nights in company with the treacherous Pequots, 
whom he expected every night would put their " bloody knives to his 
throat." But the friendship he had formed with the Narragansetts was 
a strong one. They respected his counsels, and finally, with the Mohi- 
cans, another strong tribe, agreed to make a treaty with the English 
against the Pequots. 

LONG AND BLOODY INDIAN WAR. 

That tribe soon opened war, and in the wretched conflict, which lasted 
four years, the magistrates depended almost entirely upon Williams for 
advice and for keeping the peace with the friendly Indians, and it was 
chiefly due to him that the war was at last brought to an end successful 
to the colonists. 

Yet, when Governor Winthrop moved that he be recalled from ban- 
ishment and some mark of favor be shown him for his services, the 
authorities refused to do it, and a few years later they even refused to 
allow the colony of Providence to join those of Massachusetts Bay, Plym- 
outh, Connecticut and New Haven in ?. league for mutual protection 
against the Dutch and French. The only allies of this little band of 
refugees were the Indians. Even with them it needed very skillful man- 
aging to keep from an outbreak on a> count, of the wrongs they suffered 
from the other colonies. 

At length the people of Providence decided to look to the mother 
country for protection. They sent Williams to England to procure for 
them a charter which would define their boundaries and forbid the other 
colonies from interfering with them. Massachusetts had already begun 
to dictate to them as though they wer^ under aer control, and none of 
them felt quite willing to let them alone. Williams sailed in the summer 



250 



ROGER WILLIAMS. 



of 1643 from New York, and in a little more than a year returned with 
the charter and the good wishes of the mother country. 

The next few 3'ears were very bus}' ones for Williams. Many of the 
colonists were dissatisfied with the government which the new charter 
instituted. The Indians were troublesome, owing to insults which they 

received from the united colo- 
nies of Massachusetts and Con- 
necticut. These colonies still 
treated the people of Rhode Isl- 
and contemptuously whenever 
they had a chance. They went 
so far as to arrest three citizens 
of Newport who went to Lynn to 
visit an old friend, and had them 
fined and imprisoned. 

At length it became neces- 
sary for Rhode Island to have a 
new charter in order to settle 
the difficulties that were con- 
stantly coming up between the 
towns on the mainland and those 
on the island. Williams was 
begged to go again to England, 
and finally consented, though he 
had to sell his trading-house to 
do so. The colonists were not 
only unable to support their 
preacher and governor and his 
famil)', but actually tried in vain 
to raise money enough to pay his 
expenses when he went across 
A DELAWARE INDIAN. the oceau on their own affairs. 

When he reached England the government was in such great dis- 
order that he could do scarcely anything for his colony for some time. 
But he did not wait in idleness. Being an excellent scholar, he easily- 
found pupils, and by teaching languages to several young men, he earned 
money enough to pay the cost of his trip. Besides these duties, he wrote 
pamphlets, and spent a good deal of time in trying to relieve the suffer- 




ROGER WILLIAMS. 251 

ings of the poor miners, who were then out of work because of the tumult 
of the times. 

Although Williams staid in England three years, he finally had to 
leave before the matter of the charter was settled, for trouble had broken 
out in Rhode Island that made it necessary for him to return at once. 
So, leaving his business in the hands of Mr. Clark — who had gone with 
him from Providence — he went back as soon as he could to make peace. 
At last he was rewarded. In August, 1654, after teu years of quarreling, 
the towns all united in a union and chose Mr. Williams for their 
president. 

When, ten years after Williams left him, Mr. Clark came back with 
the charter, it was received with great joy and was at once put into opera- 
tion. The first governor was a man named Benedict Arnold. Roger 
Williams — beside being chief pastor to the whole colony — was one of his 
assistants, and for twelve years everything moved along quietly and 
pleasantl}', to the satisfaction of the residents of the colony. 

DEATH OF THE GREAT CHIEF, KING PHILIP. 

Mr. Williams was growing old now ; but he was strong and able still ; 
and when not busy with public duties, attended to his private business, 
wrote religious tracts, and preached to the Indians. Then came the terri- 
ble scenes of King Philip's war. The Narragansetts could no longer be 
kept from joining the other savages in a general attack upon the pale- 
faced usurpers. 

When the dusky warriors were seen coming toward Providence, to 
treat the people there as cruelly as the}^ had used the other settlers, Mr. 
Williams — then over seventy years old — took his stafif and went out to 
meet them. The old chiefs, who knew him well, came towards him and 
told him that thej^ were still his friends, but that the young warriors were 
60 bitter against all the white men that it would not be safe for him to go 
among them. So he returned to the settlement and joined in the fight. 
The war lasted a year, only ending with the death of King Philip and 
almost the entire destruction of the savages. 

About a year afterward, the venerable hero, the friend of the 
oppressed everywhere, and the founder of Rhode Island, passed quietly 
away. 

Roger Williams was born at Conwyl Cayo, Wales, in the year i6cj 
He died at Providence, Rhode Island, in 1683. 



252 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 

QUESTIONS. 

What was the most important colony that settled in Ne\» England > 
Can you mention some of the most distinguished Pilgrims ? Who was 
Roger Williams ? How was he received by the New England Puritans ? 
What was his feeling toward the Indians ? What did the Puritans do to 
get rid of him ? What Indian chief became friendly to Williams ? When 
banished where did Williams go ? What meaning was given to the name 
of Providence? Can you give some account of the Indians and the wars 
between them and the white settlers ? What became of Rogec Williams 
in his old age ? Where was he born and when did he die ? 



4?% 

HENEY W. LOl^G-FELLOW 

THE FAYORITE POET. 




OU have told us nothing about our American poets, 
said Mabel. Elsie and I have been talking of some 
of them, and we would like to know more about them. 
James was not unwilling to be informed on this 
subject and united his request with that of Mabel, 
Uncle Frank said he was glad to find his young 
friends interested in poets and poetry, and would tell 
them of Longfellow. 

He is the most widely popular of American 
poets, said Uncle Frank. His beautiful, i-efiued and gentle poems are 
read by all ages and all classes of people, wherever the English language 
is spoken. His father was an eminent lawyer in Portland, Maine; his 
mother was fond of music and poetry, and it was from her, Longfellow 
believed, that he inherited his imagination and taste for romance. When 
he was only eight months old his mother wrote of him, " He is an active 
rogue, and wishes for nothing so much as singing and dancing." He 
was a sweet-tempered, unselfish little fellow, too. 

The first letter he ever wrote was sent to his father when he was 
seven years old ; he began by asking his father to bring home a little 
Bible for his younger sister, who wanted one very much, and then, when 



HENRY W. IvONGEEI/LiOW. 253 

he reached the last line of his letter, he told about the drum he wanted 
for himself. Such thoughtfulness for others before himself was as marked 
all his life as in this little childish letter. There were also an upright- 
ness and high sense of honor in Mr. Longfellow's character, as well as a 
gentleness and refinement of feeling, that were adiuired by those wli' 
knew him more than it is possible to admire any written poetry, howeve 
beautiful. His life itself was a poem, full of goodness and truth. 

He was a handsome little boy, with brown curls, blue eyes, and rosy 
cheeks ; and as he grew up he became equally handsome as a man. Even 
when he was old and white-haired, he was the most beautiful, venerable 
person that the visitors to Cambridge ever saw. His first verses were 
written when he was thirteen years old ; he sent them to a town paper, 
and vaited eagerly to see whether or not they would be published. Yes, 
they were ! How excitedly happy he felt ! That is until he heard some 
one — ^who had no idea who wrote them — say they were " very poor stuff." 
That changed all his happiness into miser3^ 

CRITICISM DID HIM GOOD. 

Still, he soon made np his mind t( write some more and try and do 
better. After that a number of his pieces were published in the Portland 
Gazette. Meanwhile he had some more serious studies than poetry, and 
when he was fourteen he entered Bowdoin College, at Brunswick, Maine. 
Here he was particularly distinguished foi his blameless and orderly life. 
He was merry and fond of amusement, but, as one of his classmates said, 
" it seemed easy for him to avoid the unworthy." 

As a student he was more noted in composition than for anything 
else ; he wrote uncommonly well, both in prose and verse. When he 
graduated he would have been class poet, but that his standing was so 
good that he had the higher honor of delivering the English Salutatory. 

Soon after he graduated he was asked to return to Brunswick and 
take the chair of Modern lyanguages and Literature in the college. He 
accepted the appointment, but with the understanding that he should first 
pass some time in Europe to make himself better fitted for his duties. 
The next four years were spent in travel, in making himself better ac- 
quainted with foreign languages, in reading and writing, and in leading 
a most happy life. France, Spain, Italy and Germany were studied, and 
when he returned he was — though only twenty-three years old — finely 
fitted for his work. 



254 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 

He performed his duties so well at Bowdoin that after about si< 
years he was offered the still more important professorship of Modern 
Languages and Belles-Lettres at Harvard College. Then he left Bowdoin 
to make his home in Cambridge for the rest of his life. As before, he 
made a trip abroad before taking up his duties. It was then that he lost 
the young Avife whom he loved most dearly, and whose memory is pre- 
served to the world in many of his poems. She died and was buried in 
Holland. * 

During these j^ears of his youth and early manhood Longfellow was 
ivriting as well as studying; he was helping to make literature, while 
deeply interested in that made by others ; but he was so modest in his 
estimate of his own talents that he was viiiwilling to come before the 
public as an author until he had done his best to write something worthy 
of being printed. Four years after he went to Cambridge, and when he 
was thirty-two 3'ears old, his romance called " Hyperion " appeared, and 
also a small collection of his poems, entitled "Voices of the Night." 
They attracted a great deal of attention, and at once raised him to a place 
of note and honor among American poets. 

BEAUTIFUL STORY IN BEAUTIFUL VERSE. 

For nearly forty years after this he wrote almost steadily, and every 
few years the English-speaking people all over the world would rejoice 
that a new volume of Longfellow's poems was out. One of the most ad- 
mired of all his writings is " Evangeline," a beautiful story in beautiful 
verse, which, it is said by those who study poetry for its own sake, is the 
most perfect piece of rhyme and melody in English hexameter that is 
known. 

His next great work was the " Songs of Hiawatha," which is the 
most popular of all his poetry. That came out eight years after " Evange- 
line," and a year later he resigned his chair in Harvard University. In 
the next year, when he went to Europe, he was received everywhere with 
marked attention. 

Both the great English Universities of Oxford and Cambridge hon- 
ored him with their degrees of Doctor of Civil Law, and some of the most 
distinguished people of all the countries he visited welcomed him with 
cordiality and respect. 

After Mr. Longfellow's first trip abroad he was always in the habit 
of making translations of some of the best ballad poetry in the European 



HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 26N 

languages ; but in the year 1867, before liis last visit to tte Old World, 
he began to publish a careful and scholarly translation of the " Divine 
Comedy " of the celebrated Italian poet, Dante, which was far more 
important than any other translations he ever made. 

It makes three volumes altogether, the last of which came out the 
year after his return. • Meantime, he also wrote some delightful works in 
prose, romances and bookr, of travel. All his writings are full of simplic- 
ity, purity, and beauty. No word that does not tend to make men better 
and the world happier ever came from his pen. 

CHARMING POEMS WITH LOFTY THOUGHT. 

It has been said : the great characteristic of Longfellow is that of 
addressing the moral nature through imagination, of linking moral truth 
to intellectual beauty. In beautiful language, sweet, singing verse, and 
cultivated taste, both Dana and Bryant are probably as fine as he ; but he 
has surpassed them in great thoughts of real importance. The " Psalm 
of Life " touches the heroic string of our nature, breathes energy into our 
hearts, sustains our lagging purposes, and fixes our thoughts on that 
which lasts forever. 

He is a poet who has perfect command of expression. He selects 
with great delicacy and precision the exact phrase which best expresses or 
suggests his idea. He colors his style with the skill of a painter, and in 
compelling words to picture thought he not only has the warm flush and 
bright tints of language at his command, but he catches its changeful, 
passing hues. He draws out new meaning from many of life's rough 
shows ; he clothes subtle and delicate thoughts in familiar imagery ; he 
embodies high moral sentiment in beautiful and ennobling forms; he 
inweaves the golden thread of spiritual being into the texture of common 
existence ; he discerns and addresses some of the finest sympathies of the 
heart ; but he rarely soars out of the range of common interests and sym- 
pathies. 

In " The Psalm of Life " — our critic continues — in " Excelsior " and 
" The Light of Stars," Longfellow teaches us with much force to reckon 
earthly evils at their true worth, and to endure with patience \vhat life 
brings us. " The Village Blacksmith " and " God's Acre " have a rough 
grandeur, and " Maidenhood " and "Endymion" a soft, sweet, mystical 
charm which show to advantage the range of his powers. Perhaps 
• Maidenhood " is' the most finely poetical of all his poems. 



256 HENRY W. LONCxFELLOW. 

The " Spanish Student," though it lacks the dramatic skill and 
power necessary to make a good plsy, is one of the most beautiful poems 
in dialogue born in American literature. In it are to be seen the imagi- 
nation, fancy, sentiment, and manner of the poet, for it seems to compre- 
hend the whole of his genius, and to display all the powers of its author 
as none of his other works do. 

In all, from the first to the last, Mr. Longfellow's writings, like his 
life, were .simple and noble, beautiful and good. Few great men have had 
such a happy life as he, whom we call the Cambridge Bard. Unlike many 
poets, he never had to struggle with poverty, or to live lonely and unap- 
preciated. His gifts were at once recognized, and friends, wealth, and 
fame came to him without waiting. He was not free from sadness, 
though. Years after the first Mrs. Longfellow's death, he married again; 
and in 1861 this lady met her death by a shocking accident. While 
dressing for a party her clothes caught fire from a light in the room, and 
she was burned to death. 

Good fortune sometimes injures our characters more than trials ; but 
they did no harm to this sunny, gentle nature. If he had known all 
kinds of griefs, he could scarcely have been more sympathetic with all 
men, or more of a friend to the unfortunate than he was. 

Henry W Longfellow was born at Portland, Maine, on February 27, 
1807. He died in Cambridge, Massachusetts, March 24, 1882. 

QUESTIONS. 

Who was Longfellow ? Can you describe his disposition ? What 
can you say of him as a boy ? What was he noted for as a student ? 
What positions as instructor did he hold ? What are the titles of some 
of his popular poems ? Can you describe the characteristics of his poems ? 
Where was Longfellow bom and when did he die ? 






''fSuSsJm' 



